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comphy-and-cozy · 3 months

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GASLIGHT - andrei svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)

Summary: A dance of desperation, destruction, and desire with the man who broke your heart.

Word Count: 5.4K

Author’s Note: This is about a year in the making thanks to the thirsty, depraved minds of @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech. Inspired strongly by gaslight by inji, I present to you: toxic, cocky ex Andrei.

Warnings: Toxic relationship, dubcon/drunk consent, infidelity. Alcohol use/mention. Smut (18+ ONLY): Unprotected sex, very public sex/exhibitionism, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), heavy degradation, Andrei has a filthy mouth.

Your media consumption is your responsibility. Do not proceed if any of the above warnings will trigger, hurt, or offend you. Masterlist / Moodboard

In all fairness, you knew Andrei Svechnikov was trouble as soon as your eyes locked with his at that fateful frat party, bathed in a deep blue light strobing on the ceiling. Even then, it was etched into his handsome face, his smile far too confident to be anything but a terrible, terrible idea. But you were young, dumb, and all too willing to fall for the broad Russian with the dimples and a body that looked like it was sculpted out of clay. He was way too hot to resist, and really, what’s a girl to do?

In all honesty, he was sweet at first, even genuine. He held the door open for you, walked you to class, let you wear his jersey. He swept you off your feet with an ease that should’ve had your radar beeping, but you were already in too deep to notice. Besides, you had no reason to believe that the handsome, charming boy with a toothy smile would be anything but wonderful.

Oh, how wrong you were.

When you look back on the chapter of your life regretfully titled ‘Andrei’, the pages stained with tears and spilled ink from all of the letters you never sent, you’ll remember the red flags that you didn’t notice (or maybe willfully ignored), heading straight into a myriad of heartbreak. You two were toxic together, in a seemingly endless cycle of hurt and betrayal.

But it was hands down, unequivocally, the best sex you’ve ever had.

And that’s what kept you coming back, even when he’d pull his shit and make his excuses for the hickeys on his neck that you didn’t put there or the purple thong on his floor that was a size too small for you. You’d turn a blind eye, pretending not to see, pretending that it didn’t sting after the sweet nothings he’d whisper to you after a night in his sheets.

The real turning point of your relationship was when you saw him leaving your sorority house the morning after a night out, a clear walk of shame—except you’d gone to bed alone. Seeing the bedhead and hickeys on your sorority sister, Callie, was all you needed to put the pieces together, your heart shattering for the first time.

So, after crying until you made yourself sick, drinking more tequila than you’d care to admit, you brushed yourself off, rose from the ashes, and did what any logical and sane girl would do in your shoes: fuck his teammate. And then another. And another. You took your rage and all of the hurt that simmered beneath your surface and channeled it into sweet, satisfying, addicting revenge. The orgasms weren’t quite the same, but you were surprised at how good getting even felt. Seeing the look on his face when he’d come down the stairs to find you in the kitchen, in a ratty old t-shirt of one of his friends… priceless.

From then on, you and Andrei were locked in what felt like an eternal battle at who could out-toxic the other. You thrived on knowing you were riling him up, getting under his skin, burrowing your way into his psyche to ensure he’d never forget you and would forever regret betraying you. You were the one who got away, not the other way around.

From the moment you stepped into the bar that fateful night, instantly feeling his eyes crawling over your legs, you couldn’t deny that you had voluntarily set yourself up for it. Unable to resist his charm, dripping in honey, trouble etched into the predatory gaze he held on you, there was no way you were getting out unscathed.

His white button-up is a size too small, hugging his muscles in a way that makes the fabric fight against the buttons in the middle. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the corded muscle of his forearms on display, the expensive watch sitting on his thick wrist. He wears it everywhere he goes, so you know he couldn’t have done it on purpose, but you can’t help but feel he knew you’d be there tonight, exposing it with the sole intention of driving you wild.

So, it’s only to be expected that you make your way over to a friend of his, slinking up beside him at the bar with a seductive smile and wide eyes, leaning into him and letting your hand rest on his bicep while you laugh at his joke. It feels over the top—because it is—but you’re fueled by the knowledge that Andrei will be fuming once he sees it. It’s the same old cat-and-mouse game that you always play, pushing his buttons even from afar.

It makes for the best foreplay.

Your new beau—Scott—struts off to the bar, smug at how easy his win tonight is. He barely had to work to have you hanging all over him, and the prospect of getting you into his bed at the end of the night is all but a slam dunk. Your eyes watch him, appreciatively admiring the broad shoulders and built back, envisioning what it’ll look like littered with angry, red scratches from your pristine, hot pink nails.

He saunters up behind you, and you feel his presence without even needing to turn around.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His words, heavily accented, are slurred—just slightly, but enough for you to know he’s been heavy on the vodka tonics. Part of you wonders if your antics with Scott have influenced his state of mind. Judging by the way his arms are crossed, revealing the curve of his enormous bicep and the thickness of his forearms, you’d wager that they have.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Andrei,” you say, tossing your hair back, dismissing him instantly.

“Cut the shit, sweetheart,” he sneers. His eyes drag shamelessly over your figure, heat lingering where his gaze travels. “That’s the third one of my teammates you’ve tried to fuck.”

“Fourth, actually.”

“Do you actually want them, or are you just whoring around my friends to get a rise out of me?”

“That’s rich,” you scoff, voice dripping with distaste. The absolute nerve on this guy. “Can’t handle the thought of your friend fucking me better than you?”

Andrei’s smile is sickly sweet. “We both know that was never the issue, sweetheart.”

Unfortunately, he’s right. Memories of late nights punctured by a thick Russian accent, bite marks that turned into bruises that lasted for days flood your mind, a phantom touch along your hip making your shiver.

“Where's your new bitch?” you pivot. “Let me guess, busy taking your Insta pics?”

His smirk grows, enough to reveal his missing tooth. The mockery in his tone drips from every word as he says, “That’s no way to talk about your sister.”

You bite back your grimace and the urge to say, “That’s not my sister,” but unfortunately he’s picked up your strategy of ticking off your friends on his bedpost one by one, and this latest iteration has landed him in bed with your suitemate, Jenna. When she broke up with her long-term boyfriend, you knew it was only a matter of time before Andrei swooped in with his handsome smile, dimples, and delicious muscles, sisterhood be damned. The fact that you two shared a wall was only the cherry on top.

With a glance at the bar, you see that Scott is stuck in line, your 3rd Mezcal margarita too far away. He sends you an apologetic shrug, gesturing to the growing crowd and signaling to wait for him. Your lips curl into a forced smile, blowing a kiss and offering a cheeky wave.

Andrei shifts on his feet, amused at the overzealous act that his idiotic linemate seems to be buying. With another glance across your figure, doing far more than just undressing you with his eyes, he sidles back up to you. With the way you look, he supposes he shouldn’t expect to resist.

“Seems like your man is gonna be a while. Dance with me?” he whispers into your ear. You ignore the way the heat from his breath travels down your spine, arousal instantly pooling through you despite every nerve in your body trying to fight it.

“I’m not your girlfriend, Andrei.”

“Doesn’t mean two old friends can’t have a dance,” he counters.

You resist the urge to snort at the label, as if you were ever friends. It’s the same look in his eye as always, the one that got your heart broken a thousand times before, but you find your hand slipping into his—ignoring the sheer size of it compared to yours—and letting him lead you into the throng of people anyways.

The way Andrei’s firm body slots up behind yours is far too easy, his hands all too familiar on your hips as he pulls you into him, forcing a slow and steady grind to the beat of the music. It should be shocking the way that Jenna—and Scott—completely slips from your mind, replaced by the feeling of his groin pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Look so fucking hot tonight,” he purrs in your ear. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, but your body reacts involuntarily when his praise goes straight between your legs. “Made my dick hard just looking at you.”

“Wouldn’t want your girl hearing you talk like that,” you manage to retort, shaking away the arousal that threatens to warm your entire body.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“That what you said about me?” you ask, ignoring the pang of hurt that strikes your heart. It’s the first—and only—glimpse of a real emotion, hidden beneath snark and quick remarks.

“Aw, baby, let’s let the past stay in the past,” Andrei says, deflecting by pressing your ass against his groin, allowing you to feel the firmness beneath his zipper. The flash of any serious conversation disappears when the tips of his fingers graze against the underside of your breast, fostering the spread of goosebumps over your body. It’s a diversion, and you hate that it works; his hands have always been a source of weakness for you.

Heat simmers in your core, gradually growing until it’s bubbling; his hands crawling over your body while your hips move in sync with his. The chance of rekindling whatever you had before is long gone, and you’re well past any apology or reparation, so you might as well have fun with it, right?

His hands trail fire down your sides, over the bare skin between your top and skirt, to your bare leg. You’ve lost the ability to speak, to protest—not that you would—when you feel his fingers curl under the hem, tugging it up until you're all but entirely exposed, challenging you to resist. The air, though warm from the crowd, feels heavenly on your hot thighs, cool against the damp fabric of your panties. Your body gives an involuntary shiver when one large hand splays possessively over your hip, the other creeping over to the inside of your thigh.

You know what Andrei’s up to, and as much as you hate him, there’s not a single ounce in your body that wants to stop him. Your legs fall open against your will, making more space for his hand.

“Fucking soaked,” he sneers, laughing at the way you shudder when his finger barely grazes your clit, pressing against the wet scrap of fabric covering your modesty. “Knew you would be. You can never get enough of me, can you?”

Refusing to give in so easily, you reply by slowing the roll of your hips, pressing further against his groin to grind against him. His chuckle is low in your ear, amused at your attempt to keep the playing field even. The pad of his middle finger runs over your pussy, collecting the wetness that’s seeping through the cotton.

Andrei’s hand stays gripped on your thigh while the other comes up to press his finger against your lips. You can taste your own essence on the tip of his finger, coating your lip with the moisture. It presses into your mouth, pushing against your tongue in a display of dominance; though you want to push him away, your body betrays you and your lips close around his digit, sucking hard.

The sound of your moan when he roughly tugs your panties to the side is covered by the heavy bass pumping through the room. The lights are dim enough, strobing around to hide the way Andrei plunges a thick finger into you, though admittedly you wouldn’t notice or care if someone were to spot you, the thought making you even hotter.

“Always so fuckin’ tight,” he murmurs in your ear, shifting his hand to add another finger. “Dripping all over my hand like a fucking whore.”

“Andrei,” you whisper, fruitlessly, the sound of your voice swallowed by the electronic wobs of the remixed rap song overhead. Your resolve is slipping quickly, with each deep twist of his fingers inside of you, knees losing strength with every passing moment. Maybe it’s the cocktail, or maybe it’s just him; either way, you’re intoxicated.

His marriage and middle pump their way into you, the slick between your thighs making it all too easy for him to slide them in and out. Your eyes flutter shut, head lolling back slightly when he strokes you perfectly, even despite the awkward angle of his wrist, shoved between your legs in the middle of a sweaty, crowded room. So far, no one’s seemed to notice—or perhaps, if they did, they just opted to ignore it.

“Fuck, kisa,” he murmurs, and the heat in his voice makes you clench around his digits. It’s rough, deep in your ear, followed by what you presume is cursing in Russian. Andrei grips your hips so tightly you’re certain there’ll be fingerprint-sized bruises on them tomorrow. “Such a desperate whore for me, you’d let me take you right here in front of everyone, wouldn’t you?”

His finger presses against your g-spot in a way that has your resolve completely melting; suddenly, all you can focus on is the feeling that’s blooming in your core, flooding pleasure through your veins. Fuck it.

“Fuck yeah, give it to me.”

You’re not really serious, at least not entirely, but your stomach flutters with excitement when you feel one of his hands fidgeting behind your ass, fishing out his erection to press it against you. He’s hard, and you can feel the way he throbs against you through the thin material of your skirt. Admittedly, you had missed that specific part of him. No one, not even his linemate Scott with the big dick, could replicate Andrei.

“This what you want, huh? Want it deep in that little cunt?” he says, tapping himself lightly against your ass in the limited space he has between your bodies. “Guess my dick doesn’t know how much of a bitch you are.”

“Probably because your dick has been inside way bigger bitches than me,” you bite back, the throb between your legs not enough to cull the sass and bitterness that lingers just beneath the surface. If his fingers weren’t just buried between your thighs, you probably would’ve had more to say about the matter.

When you feel the curl of his fingers tugging the material of your skirt up farther, you arch into him, your senses ablaze with adrenaline. You can’t help it, giving into the way you throb, empty, waiting for him to soothe the need with the harsh thrust of his cock.

Andrei is slow, drawing out your torture. He keeps his hips pressed against your backside, shielding his erection with your ass, because you are still in public, after all. His large hand grips your hip while the other reaches between your bodies, and you let out a whimper when you feel his tip lining up with your entrance.

He pushes in, slowly, mainly to avoid attracting attention. His hands flex against your waist, pulling you into him and encouraging you to resume the grind of your hips; only this time, his dick is buried deep inside of you and he’s pressed directly against your g-spot. He hasn’t been inside you for 5 seconds and your legs are already shaking, trying desperately to steady your breathing while heat floods through your body.

Even through the loud music, you can hear the way Andrei grunts lowly in your ear, and you’re pleased to know he’s just as strung out as you, fucking you in the middle of a dance floor. His hips begin to push forward, subtly, forcing you to feel each inch and ridge of his cock dragging in and out of your soaked pussy. Large hands crawl over your hips, guiding them to gyrate against him and using your body to drive himself deeper inside of you.

It shouldn’t feel so good, getting blatantly fucked by your sworn enemy in the middle of a sweaty crowd, grinding shamelessly on his dick. But the beat syncs with his thrusts, heat flooding your system as he hits the perfect spot at the perfect pace to have your legs squeezing tightly around him.

“You been thinkin’ about this?” he whispers in your ear, and you can hear the smug smirk on his face. “Think about you while I’m fucking Jenna sometimes. She’s hot, but her cunt isn’t as tight as this one.”

“You’re—” you gasp when he delivers a hard thrust at the beat drop of the song that’s playing, “—such a fucking dick.”

“Aw, but you love it, don’t you?”

You hate him. Him and everything that he’s done to you—breaking your heart, picking up the pieces, only to shatter it again. There had been more nights spent crying over him than nights with him, screaming into your pillow until there were no tears left in your body. Worse than that, he’d turned you into someone you barely knew: someone who takes the low road and stoops to his level when you know you deserve better than all of it.

But damn, if you don’t love the way he fucks you.

It happens before you even have a chance to think about how you’ll mask it, instead crying out as your body goes limp against Andrei’s. His strong arms hold you in place, stilling his hips to feel the way your cunt clenches around him as your orgasm washes over you like a tsunami. The sound of your moan is swallowed by the bass, evaporating into thin air before it has the chance to make its way to any of the club’s patrons around you.

“Fuck,” Andrei husks in your ear, breath heavy against your skin. Your walls flutter around him as he lets the waves siphon through your shaking limbs. “Barely had to do any work for you to fall apart on my cock, huh? Comin’ for me like the pretty little slut you are.”

The retort you want to snap back doesn’t come out, mind still completely blown from the force of your climax. Your heart pounds in your throat, pussy clenching weakly around his thick cock, and you know you have no space to try and pretend he didn’t feel the way you came all over it.

“You gonna give me another one, dorogoy?”

“Drei,” you choke out, a wave of clarity splashing over you. “Not here.”

He hums, the vibration in his chest pressed against your back, so deep that it travels down your spine. “Unfortunate. But I suppose getting arrested for public indecency probably isn’t very good for my career.”

Behind you, you feel him tucking himself back into his pants, using your body to shield the way he adjusts before he’s gripping your arm and dragging you with him. “C’mon. M’not done until your face is painted with my cum.”

He doesn’t bother to fix your skirt, and you’re frantically tugging it back down to cover yourself as he leads you through the crowd. The next thing you know, you’re being pushed into the dark, dingy bathroom before his hands are pushing your crop top up, exposing your bra. Your eyes glance to the unlocked door when he tugs the cups of your bra down.

“Nah, a slut like you doesn’t need privacy,” he purrs, like he’s reading your mind. His eyes glitter as he follows your line of sight. “I wouldn’t even bother charging anyone who walks in for the show. S’a free for all.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s roughly pushing you against the countertop, growling when he pulls your skirt back up your hips. Your mouth opens to protest, but he speaks over you. “It’s so cute when you act all modest, but we both know you’re a cheap whore, huh? Pretendin’ that you wouldn’t like an audience. Like you wouldn’t let me bend you over one of those cocktail tables out there.”

“Think you wanna get caught, Svechnikov,” you tease, pressing your ass back against his pelvis, grinding on him in the same movements as earlier—only this time, you’re an orgasm deep, and you have at least some semblance of privacy, so you have no reservations. Your eyes lock with his in the reflection, holding his gaze. “Looking for an excuse to end things with Jenna, are you?”

“Nah, I think I’ll keep her around,” he says with a smile, pushing at your back to press your breasts against the cold countertop. “She’s a good fuck.”

“You gonna fuck me, or you just gonna talk about her? I can go get her, if you want. Catch her up on the details.”

With a laugh, Andrei tsks. “So impatient. Didn’t your mother ever teach you about manners?”

“More than yours ever taught you, that’s for sure,” you spit back. If only his mother knew the things he’d done and said to you; you’re sure she’d have plenty to say about her son’s behavior.

Andrei pulls himself out of his pants, fisting his dick before he’s dropping a wad of spit on the tip, running it through your folds. In the mirror, you see him watching the way it melds with your slick, coating the head of his dick. “I love when you talk dirty to me. Makes me so fuckin’ hard.”

He doesn’t give you the satisfaction of having the last word, shooting back whatever sassy comeback is lingering on your tongue, instead pushing into you so quickly a gasp is ripped from your throat. His hips press hard against your ass, buried to the hilt so you can throb around the entirety of him. “So tight, ‘specially for a cunt that gets used so often.”

The degradation pours out of his mouth, a hot wave of arousal trailing up your spine with every word. He’s the only one that can pull it off, igniting the blue flame inside of you with filthy whispers, paired perfectly with each precise thrust. His hands dig into your hips, pulling you back against him roughly, loud slaps of your ass against his pelvis echoing around the room.

A large hand makes its way up your spine, slipping into your hair and tugging you back until your spine is arched and his chest is pressed against your back. You take in your own reflection in the mirror, cheeks growing warm at the sight: hair mussed, makeup smeared, clothes disheveled across your frame. At the apex of your thighs, you can’t help but stare at his thick cock driving into you, glistening with your slick.

Andrei hums lowly in your ear. “Look at you, filthy fuckin’ whore with your tits out, getting this slutty little cunt destroyed by my dick.”

“Andrei,” you gasp out—whether at the filth spewing out of his mouth, or from the way he’s driving into you, relentless, you aren’t sure.

“Yeah, baby, you gonna come?”

Your reply is a choked cry. “No–”

“No? Yeah, you are, can feel the way you’re gripping my cock. You’re gonna gush all over me.”

Your hand betrays you, slipping from the edge of the counter to paw at your clit. His chuckle makes your cheeks hot, burning even hotter when his breath fans against your neck. “Say ‘please.’”

The last shred of dignity you have left lodges in your throat, and you glare at him in the reflection, refusing to take his bait. His eyebrow raises, and a moment later, his hips cease their movements.

An involuntary whine claws its way out of your throat, feeling the way your pussy flutters helplessly around him. You know he can feel it, too, judging by the way his eyes glitter as he looks at you. His voice is deep, rumbling lowly in your ear, “We both know you want it. Need it. Scott wasn’t gonna give it to you, was he? Not like this. Not like me.”

You purse your lips, shaking your head. You’re not quite sure what game you’re playing, not when he can read you like a book, can feel the evidence of your pending release, pulsing desperately around him. Begging.

When you don’t answer, still stubbornly clinging onto your last, desperate piece of humility, his hand slithers up to roughly grope at your breast. He massages, then pinches your peaked nipple between two large fingers. “Use your manners.”

Your hips cant backwards, attempting to goad him into moving—all you need is just a little bit, and you’ll be falling off the cliff into oblivion. He chuckles, hips moving quickly to avoid being sheathed fully inside you; you’re reprimanded with a slap to your breast. No words are necessary; he isn’t going to bother repeating himself, so you steel yourself and say with a shaky voice, “P-please, Andrei.”

A satisfied smirk curls onto his stupid, handsome face as he releases your breast, knocking your own hand out of the way to rub at your clit as he resumes the same brutal rhythm as before. The warmth of his finger sends a spark up your spine, heightening the pleasure that surges through you.

“C’mon, kisa. Come on it.”

You have no choice but to obey, the world shattering around you after freezing entirely for the briefest of moments. You swear your soul leaves your body in the middle of that dingy bathroom in the city’s hottest club; one set of fingers pressed against your throbbing clit, the other gripping the edge of the countertop, holding on for dear life. The sound of Andrei’s groan of satisfaction is deep in your ear, approving of the way your hips twitch in his hands.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” he says, patronizing, nipping affectionately at your shoulder. You don’t have it in you to roll your eyes, but you sigh loudly when he pulls out of you; the empty void in your pussy is devastating. “On your knees, sweetheart. Gotta clean up the mess you made.”

He isn’t rough, but he isn’t entirely gentle as he encourages you to your knees; you do your best not to imagine what is on the sticky, tiled floor of the bathroom—or the last time it was cleaned. Andrei smirks as he tilts his head down to look at you. “Knew I’d get you back here someday.”

“You want me to suck your dick or not?”

“I do,” he says slowly. “But I know you want that even more.”

Now, you do roll your eyes, ignoring him and leaning forward to take him in your mouth.

“Ah ah ah,” he stops you. You hate that he makes you feel like a greedy child going for a piece of candy before you say ‘thank you’. “Want you to say it.”

“Fuck you,” you spit out.

“Already did, sweetheart,” he winks, and you scowl in response. He’s the worst when he’s right.

“Wanna suck your dick, Andrei,” you say reluctantly, the words tasting awful in your mouth. You’re tempted to slap the smug look on his stupid, handsome face.

Your eyes draw to the way he takes his length in his hand, stroking it slowly. “Want it in your throat, hm?”

A glare, burning hot, shot in his direction. He watches you, expectant, and you know he’s waiting for you to repeat his words. The sooner you say it, the sooner it’ll be over. “Want it in my throat.”

“Want me to spill my cum all over that pretty face?” he smirks. You swallow, hot from the inside out.

“Want you to come all over my face, Drei.”

It sounds so sincere he pauses to stare. Then the smirk returns. “Aw, baby, all you had to do was ask.”

His dick meets your lips and you whimper as soon as it presses into your mouth. The weight of him is familiar, almost comforting on your tongue, though the width of him is something you never got used to. He’s big, and he knows it.

“Forgot how much I like the way you look with my cock stuffed in your mouth,” he says, pulling his phone out of the back pocket of his unzipped pants to snap a photo of you. “Should I post on my private story, you think?”

“You post and I’ll never suck your dick again, Svechnikov.”

“Don’t worry, kisa,” he coos. “Want to keep that for my eyes only. Now, put that pretty mouth to work, yeah?”

With a scoff, you roll your eyes and part your lips again—reluctantly. You can’t explain why, but there’s an inexplicable urge to have him back in your mouth, to deliver the pleasure he never fails to offer you.

To keep him addicted to you the same way you are him.

He presses in, doesn’t give you the time to adjust before he’s hitting the back of your throat, nor does he bother to hide his dark chuckle when you choke, tears brimming in your eyes. With a groan, his thrusts grow quicker, drool spilling out the side of your mouth.

“Not sure what I like fucking more: your cunt or your face,” he drawls, accent thick as he draws closer to his release. Thick fingers card through your hair, securing a hold at the back of your head and you blink away the stream of tears pooling in your eyes. A string of broken Russian falls from his mouth, eyes squeezed shut while his hips increase their pace. “Fuckin’ love when you gag on it though, baby.”

Andrei lets out another loud groan and a frantic series of thrusts before he’s pulling out of your mouth quickly, wrapping his fingers around length and stroking himself. He jerks a few times before releasing another curse in Russian before he spills onto your face, dripping thickly over your skin.

“Fuck,” he says, this time in English. “Now I gotta get a picture of that.”

When he tugs his phone out, you do your best to scramble away, but you hear the telltale click of the camera anyways. Andrei’s hum is smug as he admires his artistry. “M’sure Scott will love this preview of you for later.”

“You are the worst,” you huff, glaring at him as you clean up your face. Still, you can’t help the heat that creeps into your cheeks.

“What? All I was doing was warming you up for him. Think about how much dick you can take now that I’ve stretched you out.”

Not bothering to even waste the energy arguing back, you opt to flip him off. The effect is much less powerful given that you’re tossing out the paper towel that wiped his cum off your face. He raises an amused eyebrow, eyes raking over your figure before stepping beside you to grab his own paper towel.

While he’s cleaning himself up, you adjust your skirt, ensuring you’re properly covered. A glance in the mirror renders your reflection less than stellar, but you clean up the smudged lip gloss and wipe away the runny mascara from under your eyes. When you look back at Andrei, he’s distracted by his phone, so you seize the opportunity to take his wallet and pull out two crisp hundred dollar bills, fresh from the ATM.

Rubbing the bills together catches his attention, and he grimaces as he lunges toward you. Holding them just out of his grasp, you offer a big pucker of your lips, pressed to his cheek with a loud, “mwah!” before tucking the bills into your top, snug against your breast. With a wink, you walk out, feeling his gaze hot on your ass as the door swings shut behind you.

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misshoneyimhome · 3 months

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Say My Name, Say My Name I Andrei Svechnikov 🖋️⚡️🌺

Requested? Yes / No

Summary; Based on the Tik Tok trend, calling your boyfriend “husband”

Tropes & warnings; established relationship; Tik Tok trend; fluff, soft smut 18+; unprotected sex (p in v);

Other notes: So, this is my debut writing for Andrei Svechnikov - and can I just… *deep breath* how did nobody warn me about how fucking adorable he is!? I mean, I know he's like five times my size, but all I want to do is squeeze his cute face 😮‍💨 Anyway, onto the main point, this is the first of three TikTok-trends stories; it's just pure fluff with a hint of gentle smut 🌷🐰

I hope you enjoy it 🤍😉

Word count; 1.8K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

On a lazy Sunday afternoon, sunlight poured through the windows of your snug shared flat as you and your boyfriend Andrei Svechnikov settled in for a quiet day. Andrei, engrossed in watching some sports on the telly, lounged comfortably on the sofa while you nestled into the cushions a few feet away. And as you casually scrolled through your phone, you stumbled upon a new TikTok trend that intrigued you – referring to your boyfriend as your husband and capturing his reaction. The idea caught your interest, especially given the closeness and ease of your relationship, which had flourished over the past two years. So, fuelled by curiosity, you couldn't resist pondering how Andrei would react.

You quietly rose from your spot on the couch, pretending to casually need the loo, before returning with your action camera discreetly set to record. Then, with practiced casualness, you asked Andrei if he felt like eating, suggesting ordering takeaway instead of cooking. And thankfully, he agreed, setting the scene for your playful prank.

As you then pretended to dial the number for takeaway, you held the phone to your ear, putting on a convincing act, and with a mischievous grin, you began the charade.

"Hi, yes, I'd like to place an order for delivery, please," you said, your voice tinged with mock formality. "Can I get a pasta salad bowl with chicken, and some garlic bread? Thank you."

You paused for a moment before adding, "Yeah, um, and my husband would like a Caesar salad with some extra chicken."

The first time you slipped in the word "husband," Andrei's brows furrowed in confusion. He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to decipher whether he heard correctly. However, he shrugged it off, attributing it to a potential misunderstanding due to the language barrier or perhaps his own mishearing.

“Mmm, that’s right. Yes, just remember to put the chicken in the salad, 'cause last time you wanted to put it on the side and my husband ended up not getting what he ordered.”

But when you repeated the term, his confusion deepened, and he turned towards you with a quizzical expression. His frown intensified, and he blinked in disbelief.

"Husband?" he muttered; his voice tinged with bafflement. The word hung in the air, stirring a mix of surprise and curiosity within him as he searched your face for an explanation.

You couldn’t deny it was the perfect reaction you’d hoped for. And despite your best efforts to maintain the charade, you couldn't contain your laughter as you observed Andrei's bewildered expression. After pretending to hang up the phone, your giggles bubbled up, eventually erupting into full-blown laughter that filled the room.

Caught in the contagious joy of your amusement, Andrei's own lips twitched into a grin, mirroring your infectious laughter, as he sensed the shift in the atmosphere, and you finally confessed your playful prank, unable to hold back any longer.

"I couldn't resist," you admitted between laughs, your voice filled with affection for your boyfriend. "I saw this TikTok trend and just had to see your reaction. I'm sorry, it was just too funny."

It was a heartfelt moment of shared laughter, with you laughing a little more than him as he was still somewhat baffled. And as the laughter died down, and Andrei's initial confusion turned into amusement, he shook his head with a chuckle, his eyes shining with fondness for you.

"You got me," he said, his tone playful. His amusement lingered, but then, to your surprise, he took your playful prank a step further, and with a pensive expression, he confessed, "You know, I actually don’t think it sounds bad."

His words caught you off guard. You almost choked on your own saliva as you looked at him, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really?" you asked, curiosity sparked by his unexpected response.

"Yeah," Andrei merely replied, a touch of sincerity in his voice. "I mean, we've been together for over two years now, and... I think maybe one day, maybe soon, it could happen.”

His unexpected response left you both surprised and touched. You hadn't expected such a thoughtful and mature reaction from your just 24-year-old boyfriend, yet his words stirred a mix of emotions within you, ranging from curiosity to warmth.

And as you absorbed his admission, you couldn't help but marvel at the depth of his feelings and the seriousness with which he regarded your relationship. It was a revelation that sparked a torrent of questions and emotions, prompting you to view the future in a fresh perspective.

"Andrei, I... I didn't realise you were thinking about these things," you said softly, your voice infused with a blend of surprise and affection. "I mean, I've thought about it too, but hearing you say it..."

Your words trailed off, unable to fully convey the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling within you. But Andrei simply smiled, his gaze meeting yours with steadfast sincerity.

"I just love you," he said simply, his words carrying a sense of truth and commitment that enveloped you in warmth and reassurance as he drew nearer to you on the sofa.

“And I love you,” you replied, meeting him in a tender kiss.

You cupped his face, tracing your thumb over his smooth jawline while admiring his beautiful eyes. Andrei was truly a magnificent boyfriend.

And in that moment, you recognised that perhaps the playful prank had opened a gateway to a deeper level of understanding and connection with him, paving the way for discussions about the future that you hadn't dared to approach before. As you surrendered to seal your newfound intimacy with another lingering kiss, you couldn't help but melt into his touch, feeling utterly devoted to him.

His hands found the back of your neck, gently drawing you closer as the kiss deepened, while his tongue politely sought entrance. Granting his wish, you allowed him to explore your mouth, relishing the taste of him.

And as the kiss slowly grew more intense, your lungs yearned for air. Your fingers sought his hair, while his palms moved to grip your waist, pulling you firmly into his lap. Then breaking the kiss for a brief moment, you caught your breath while straddling him, and with his hands firmly settled on your hips, you felt emboldened to deepen the kiss once more, allowing your bodies to meld together in perfect harmony.

Andrei’s physique was nothing short of impressive. Every defined muscle showcased the hard work he put in as a professional hockey player, and his sturdy arms made it seem effortless to carry you as if you were weightless. And as you subtly pressed your core against his groin, you let your hands delicately glide down to the hem of his shirt, sliding beneath the fabric to explore his toned torso.

Sensing your cues, Andrei shifted slightly, briefly breaking the kiss to remove his t-shirt, unveiling the enticing sight beneath.

“Mmm,” you purred seductively, your eyes feasting on the sight of your boyfriend. And with a playful smirk, you mirrored his actions, revealing your naked chest as you had opted to go braless that day.

Andrei's hands eagerly explored your breasts, teasing them with nips and kisses before reconnecting his lips with yours. As your hands roamed each other's bodies, the kiss grew increasingly fervent and passionate with each passing moment.

It was clear that both of you desired more. Utilising his strength, Andrei effortlessly lifted you in his arms, gently placing you on your back on the sofa, and with a confident smirk, he trailed kisses down your upper body, journeying past your navel to the edge of your loose leggings. Hooking a couple of fingers under the elastic, he smoothly pulled down your leggings along with your dainty knickers, exposing your bare skin.

You let out a gasp as you felt the cool air against your heat, fully immersed in the moment. Meanwhile, Andrei stood to remove his grey sweats and boxers, revealing his semi-erect member.

It was a breathtaking sight. As you admired your boyfriend, you unconsciously licked your lips, while he slowly knelt on the sofa, leaning in to connect your lips once more. The kiss was almost messy as Andrei gently positioned you in a missionary position, yet it felt incredibly romantic as he tenderly traced his fingers along your sensitive folds.

With a soft sigh, you surrendered to his touch, feeling a wave of pleasure as he carefully inserted two fingers into your entrance, stretching your muscles with a few soft pumps before withdrawing them. Andrei sensed your readiness for more, as you gently stroked his length, ensuring he reached full hardness before leaning back and allowing him to hover over you.

Your eyes remained locked as you relaxed your body, taking slow, steady breaths while he positioned the tip of his member at your entrance, and gradually, he eased himself into your warmth.

“Oh yes,” you moaned softly, matching Andrei’s sounds of pleasure as his cock smoothly filled you. It felt as if your bodies were perfectly attuned as he slowly moved in and out of you, gently stimulating your walls and igniting a wave of pleasure within you.

Your hands found their way to his dark blonde locks, holding onto them as Andrei rocked his hips in a steady rhythm. Together, you felt the slow build-up of climax beginning to take shape. The intimacy shared on the sofa was tender and passionate, yet as your desire for each other grew, it intensified into something more urgent and needy.

The soft sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, blending with your moans. The air hung heavy with anticipation as endorphins surged, a result of the deep connection you shared. Beads of sweat began to form on your skin, evidence of the heat generated by your passionate encounter.

“Mmm… Andrei…,” you moaned softly, the telltale sign that your impending climax was drawing near.

Feeling your muscles gently tighten around his sensitive shaft, Andrei sensed his own peak approaching. Increasing the pace slightly, he buried himself deeper, thrusting faster and harder with each movement. Your fingers instinctively gripped the back of his shoulders, your hips lifting to accommodate him as you neared the edge of ecstasy.

“Yes… oh yes…” you moaned, and with a few more thrusts, Andrei propelled you into a rush of pleasure.

It was an exquisite sensation as your mind soared to new heights, causing your walls to clench around your boyfriend’s member, pushing him over the edge as well. And with a deep grunt, Andrei released himself into you.

There was a brief moment of serene silence as you both took a few seconds to catch your breath and regain control. Then, with care not to spill on the furniture, Andrei gently withdrew from your warmth and settled beside you, pulling you close for a tender cuddle.

“So, this is what I get for calling you my husband?” you chuckled softly, revealing in the comfort of being with your man.

“Maybe…” he grinned playfully.

“Hmm,” you murmured softly. “I can’t really complain, can I?” You flashed him a tender smile.

“No, but I don’t complain either,” Andrei replied softly. “But I do think I’m really hungry now.”

And you couldn’t help but laugh at your sweet boyfriend’s words before responding, “Me too.”

#18+ smut #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov smut #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl imagine

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heartmix · 2 months

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Injury Prone - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x wife!reader

Word Count: 500+

Warning: Child injury, didn't care to proofread that much

A/N: I love this man so much. He and Freddie are why I love the canes to much.

Masterlist / Hockey Masterlist

"You know you're never going to hear the end of this right." You glared at your husband who slumped more into his seat, feeling the harsh glare you were throwing him.

Your son was at that age where he wanted to do everything his father was doing. Skating was the start of it. Turns out he had his father's skills because in no time he was skating with ease. The newest fixation was golf. Andrei constantly went golfing now that it was the off-season. It was only a matter of time before the mini version of him wanted to try golf also.

Golf was supposed to be the way safer option which is why you weren't worried about an all-day boys trip. Unluckily for the boys, the need to impress the 5-year-old was a priority during the trip. That top priority resulted in your son falling out of the golf cart while being taken on a joy ride up and down the hills of the course.

Normally a fall would have no effect on the little boy. The amount of times he's fallen while learning to skate and then getting back up one would think he wasn't human. That boy has been injuring himself since he could crawl. But when you saw the way he was favoring his arm when he got back home you knew something was wrong.

"Oh come on, did you see how excited he was to get an x-ray? Little dude is charming all the nurses and his doctor in there." Andrei tried to make you feel better, feel less angry but it didn't help. No one liked sitting in the hospital waiting room waiting for their child to get out of the x-ray room.

"I knew I shouldn't of had a kid with a hockey player." You grumbled making him groan. He knew that was a joke and that your grumbling was second nature, but he couldn't help but feel super guilty.

"Mr. and Mrs. Svechnikov?" The doctor called out to the both of you as you rushed ready to hear whatever news it was.

"Well, the x-rays came back clean. Nothing is broken. He just sprained it pretty badly, but other than that he is okay. We put a sling on him and we recommend to leave it on for a few days. After that, you can take him out of it. If it still feels a bit sore you can easily put him back in the sling. We also will be sending you home with some pain medicine if it gets hard to sleep at night."

"Thank you very much Dr. Johnson."

"My pleasure. I'll have the nurse get the discharge papers ready. He's back in the room waiting for you both. Have a good day." The doctor bid a farewell as you felt a sigh leaving Andrei. Of course for the fact that his son was perfectly fine (he knew that already) but for the fact that his wife wasn't going to kill him.

"You too doctor."

"See, our baby boy is perfectly fine." He smiled down at his wife whose glare didn't drop for a second.

"You're still sleeping on the couch. Not even the spare bedroom."

"Are you serious?"

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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sydnikov · 1 month

Text

Fleeting || A. Svechnikov

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov / fem!Reader

Word Count: 17.5k

Summary: Every moment with Andrei is fleeting.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), cheating(?), toxic relationship, alcoholic consumption, angst, cursing, no happy ending, Andrei-is-a-dick™

A/N: For those of you who have already been following me, you might remember this post—that’s what this is based on :) This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so that’s insane, but sorry not sorry. Get ready, this one’s gonna hurt 🤭

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Andrei doesn’t love you.

It becomes clear for you months after you start fucking him on the side. His likeness for you is merely an obsession, something to have all to himself.

You’re his, or were his, and that’s how he saw you. Nothing more than that, or at least that’s the conclusion you’ve come to after months apart lets you reflect on your relationship with him.

Spending a lot of time in your head, you think. About him, his actions, why he couldn’t love you the way you love him.

He always held you close to him, one muscular arm curled around your waist while the other likely held a drink in his hand. He paraded you around like a prize, happy to show off the hot piece of meat he likely thought of you as at his side.

It was hard to reach him, literally and metaphorically. You had to stand up on your toes to reach his ear, and the power imbalance just by your height difference alone only made the whole thing hotter, merely one aspect of your relationship you never really could get over.

Every time you spoke it had him grinning in a way that made you think he knew something you didn’t. You’re already so shy, too, and it’s what made up your whole demeanor, what drew him to you in the first place.

He likes sweetness. Innocence, quiet—that way you couldn’t rebel. And he loved it when you doted on him. You did your best to be everything he wanted in a girl, too. Bold makeup, skimpy clothing, speaking only to him and him alone. Best of all, you didn’t question him. His actions, his decisions, why he’d sometimes go days without speaking to you but once he called you again, you would come running without hesitation.

It took you too long to realize that he only liked you because you were someone he could fall back on when the freedom of his escapades got too boring and he needed stability. The thing is that Andrei loved you being his, but he didn’t want to ever be yours.

And you know this now, you do. The moment you went no contact and left his apartment in tears, you were calling your best friend for support and to reinforce the fact that he is the asshole, not you.

Sometimes, though, you dream. Of his hands on you, his mouth on your neck, his thick cock pounding into you from behind. The toxicity of it all that, despite everything, felt so good because your emotions were always on overdrive when with him.

Mostly, you liked feeling desired. Nobody had ever pursued you the way he did, even if your body is all he really wanted from you to begin with.

It’s been months since you confessed your feelings for him and he told you to leave; months of you wallowing, going to work, meeting with friends for drinks as a shell of yourself because without Andrei, life suddenly seemed colorless.

You miss him. The excitement, the tension, the way he made you feel. And you pride yourself on being confident, but all self respect flies out the window the moment his name is brought up. It’s wrong, too, you swear you know this, and you imagine countless times telling him off, if you ever run into him again.

For treating you like a body to warm his dick, a soulless individual with no feeling… You’re reminded of the last conversation you had with him yet again, the one that ended everything. You’d been seeing each other for months when it occurred. Months full of Andrei and the rollercoaster of emotions he had you on.

To get to the end, though, you have to go back to the beginning.

It’s January of twenty twenty-three, and you’re freshly twenty-one and experiencing the world in a way you never could before. Riding the high of getting your first serious job in college, it took no convincing at all for you to let your best friend, Maria, convince you to go out on a Friday night to celebrate your blossoming lives.

“Who are we meeting there, again?” You ask, painting your lips a bright red in front of Maria’s full-body mirror. You’ve already started pregaming, and your head is starting to buzz in just the way you like it.

Your blonde friend is quickly curling her hair, despite the fact that she’s had hours to get ready and still procrastinated until you arrived at her apartment. “Some friends from work. You probably won’t know them,” She says offhandedly, finishing her hair in record timing before snatching up the two dresses she had previously laid out on her bed. “Should I wear this in black or red?”

Raising a brow, you question her wording. “Considering I don’t work with you, I doubt I would.” Laughing, you turn your head away from the mirror to examine the two dresses she’s holding up to her body. “Do the red one, it makes your eyes pop.”

Anything would look good on Maria, though. She has this timeless sort of beauty, a blonde, blue-eyed bombshell that has eyes turning her way wherever she goes. You’d be jealous if you didn’t mind her taking all the attention off of you, considering you’re nowhere near as bold as her.

It will especially come in handy tonight, too, since these co-workers of hers are ones you’ve never met before and you don’t exactly plan on getting too close to them.

“This is why I get ready with you,” Maria sighs happily, unceremoniously throwing the black dress back onto her bed. “Oh! I almost forgot, I have heels for you!” She’s then running back into her closet, ruffling through a box before emerging with a pair of bright red stilettos.

“What’s with the red theme tonight?” You giggle as she tosses the heels to you. They look expensive, a brand you don’t recognize written in cursive on the inside of the leather soles. Maria insisted you incorporate red into your outfit tonight, whether it be subtle or bold.

She eyes you from her position on the bed, somehow managing to zip up her dress one-handed. “You don’t watch sports by any chance, do you?”

Throwing back the last of a vodka shot, you wince before responding. “My dad made me watch baseball with him sometimes?”

Maria’s face lights up like she suddenly knows something you don’t. All she does is hum in response, biting her lip like she’s holding back from telling you something.

Or, you’re just drunk. You’ve always been a lightweight. “What?” You ask anyway, finally standing up as you adjust yourself.

The blonde walks over to you, fixes the creases in your little black dress and affixes you with an approving stare. “Don’t worry about it,” Suddenly, she’s whirling around to go back for her phone, which is laid faced down on the nightstand. “Ooh, I knew those heels were a good choice. You look so good!”

As she saunters back over, wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you into her side and poses for a picture, you forget all about the abrupt topic change and the fact that her red theme with questions of sports does mean something, after all.

Truthfully, you still can’t remember exactly how you got from her apartment and into a high-end bar you’ve only ever seen advertised online. Bits and pieces of an Uber ride along with downing more shots come to mind, but it’s all hazy.

You don’t really care to remember though, either, as Maria leads you through the crowded bar, arm linked through yours, with a purpose. The music is loud, so loud you think you can see the walls moving, but that’s also probably just your swimming vision.

“Here they are!” Maria is shouting over the noise, and you follow her gaze to a group of tall, imposing men surrounding two booths right by the bar.

“Those are you coworkers?” You ask, a little incredulous. Scratch that—very incredulous.

She sends you a mischievous grin. “I said friends, girl. Meet my friends!” That’s what gathers their attention, and you’re suddenly reminded that she’s just as tipsy as you right now, if not more.

Ah, fuck, you think as one of the men come over and pull Maria into a hug. He looks at you questioningly after they pull apart, and you send him a small, nervous smile.

Damn it, Maria.

“You must be the friend she mentioned,” He says, again looking to the blonde beside you for confirmation. “From college, yeah?”

That seems to snap Maria out of whatever stunned stupor she’d been in, and she tunes back into your conversation by, again, pulling you into her. “My best friend,” She swoons, and yeah. She’s definitely drunk now.

“Nice to meet you,” He’s chuckling, and seems to be familiar with her antics. “I’m Martin.”

You introduce yourself and shake his offered hand. “Any leftover shots, by any chance?” While taking the lead in conversation with people you’ve never met before might seem odd, you don’t think you can rely on Maria to socialize for you considering she’s already falling into your side.

“I can check, if you want to follow me—ah, shit,” Martin curses, suddenly, then quickly apologizes to the two of you before rushing over to a man with a mustache attempting to climb on top of a table.

“Interesting friends, Maria,” You say into her ear as you reluctantly follow him, keeping her close. “Who’s the one with the mustache?”

She seems to gain a little bit of her wits back to give you a description of all the guys within your eyesight. “The mustache is Seth, super friendly but also, uh… Super drunk. He’s Canadian.”

You’re not sure why you need to know his nationality, but she continues before you can ask.

“And you just met Martin, right? Yeah, he’s really nice. His girlfriend, Nykki, is gorgeous, they’re both from Czechia. Then there’s the really tall one, behind Seth? No, other side. Yeah, that’s Jesperi. A bit of a flirt even though we’re all pretty sure he has a girlfriend, but he still won’t admit it. He’s Finnish.”

Maria continues to describe a few of the others, but truthfully, you tune out after Jesperi because a man about the same height as the Finn is suddenly approaching the group, and looks to be the only one Seth listens to because that’s who gets him to crawl down from the table.

You don’t know why he catches your attention so suddenly, but something about him… He turns, and you’re able to catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Immediately, you come to find there’s no accurate word to describe him. His beauty simply transcends any compliment you could give; instead, you interrupt your friend from her spiel.

“Hey Mare, Mare—who’s that?” Slapping her arm, you point towards the now-laughing stranger. He’s looking around as he does so, which is when he makes contact with your starstruck eyes. He looks amused, then seems to recognize the blonde beside you, and then he’s cutting through the crowd to meet you.

Maria gives you a look before also spotting the approaching stranger, and a large smile lights up her face. It’s a smile you’re very familiar with, one that enraptures every man who catches a glimpse of her pearly whites.

You quickly come to the conclusion that this is why she was so eager to go out. She’s likely had her eye on him for a while, and you struggle to keep the disappointment from your face as she purrs his name.

“Hey, Andrei,” She says, a little giggly. “Great game today, you all played awesome.”

Andrei… You test the name silently, liking the way it feels on your tongue. He’s even taller up close, and you can see the muscle definition straining through the fabric of his shirt. He’s huge, and you feel incredibly small standing next to him.

“Thank you,” He replies, his voice deep. A little husky, definitely accented, but you’re not sure from where. “Who’s your friend?” He changes topic quickly, and those dark eyes are back on you once again.

Maria, as ditzy as she can be, does notice the subtle change in him. Andrei has never been overly flirty with her like she has with him, and she’d be an idiot not to notice the way his eyes were drawn to you the moment he spotted you.

She’s used to having all sorts of attention from the opposite sex, and the Russian hockey player is all sorts her type. It’s amusing though, watching how you melt under his gaze, thinks ‘me too’, and then decides to help you out.

“This is my friend from college,” She introduces you, says your name and watches as he takes it in like it’s very important information. Grabbing your hand from where it rests at your side, she holds it out to Andrei for you, snickers as you send her a glare. “And this is Andrei. He plays for the Carolina Hurricanes.”

This is why she asked you if you watch sports, you suddenly connect the dots. And why she was telling you where all these people are from. Her friends from work are actually sports players, and you understand why she didn’t say it outright.

These guys, they’re famous, right? Your stomach twists, and you suck in a breath as Andrei takes your hand. His palm envelops yours, and he brings it to his lips to press a heated kiss to your skin.

The greeting is outdated, but for whatever reason it suits him. You think the kiss is a promise, too, as his thumb swipes over the back of your hand.

“That’s hockey, right?” You intend to ask Maria, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of Andrei as he slowly lets go of you, like the contact is riveting for him, too. “In the NHL?”

“Yes,” He answers. “You don’t watch?” You’re not a fan like he’d expect. Strangely enough, he likes that you don’t follow them. It makes you all the more interesting, someone new to pick apart for his pleasure.

You flush, turning red under his unrelenting gaze. Suddenly, you feel out of place with your lackluster hockey knowledge. “Not a huge sports girl, unfortunately.” You say slowly, but he catches your quiet words anyway.

He’s already tuned into you—has made you into a new game to win, in his mind.

“I can fix that.” Andrei grins, and it’s almost predatory as he smoothly slides his left arm around your waist. “Do you mind if I steal her?” He directs his question to Maria, but doesn’t really give her a chance to answer before pulling you away.

Turning your head, you find her sending you a grin as she mouths something encouraging, holding up two thumbs-ups. She’s already decided that if she can’t have this sexy Russian, she wants you to instead.

“I like your heels,” His deep voice is in your ear, suddenly, and you take your eyes off of Maria to look up at Andrei, instead. “They’re the color of our jerseys.”

“Thank you,” You breathe, letting the warmth from his compliment wash over you. “Maria made me wear them.”

He clicks his tongue, like this information doesn’t surprise him. “She has good taste. Red is definitely your color.”

You flush again, finding that his eyes are already on you when you tilt your head up. Nobody has ever told you that before… Maria is always the one getting praise, not you.

The fast beating of your heart, shaky limbs and nervous breath, and you already know you’re falling for it. His charm, his looks, his confidence; it’s addicting, and you can’t force yourself to stop as you ever so slightly lean into him, letting his body envelop you.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the bar, and Andrei orders a drink over the loud bass that reverberates in your ears. It appears moments later - not fair - and then he’s sliding it towards you. You meet his eyes again as he smiles, raising a brow at your silence before he gestures to take it.

“For you,” He says. “Vodka cranberry. I have a feeling you like the fruity drinks, no?”

He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. You’re not one for sipping hard, bitter liquor, even if it gets the job done. You’re not sure how you feel about him being able to read you so well, but you do like not having to carry the conversation.

“Am I that transparent?” You grin, though it’s laced with insecurity as you take a sip. It’s good, and helps calm your nerves.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, malyshka. It’s not a bad thing.��

You wouldn’t know it then, but he already began patronizing you the moment you met him. The Russian language is full of double-meanings, and malyshka, little one, is rather mocking. For him to know you so well already was a good thing for him, but for you? Not so much.

Andrei sees right through you, and he has from the very beginning.

“You’re not American, are you?” You change topic, suddenly, using the unfamiliar term he used as an excuse. “Your accent, it’s foreign.”

“Net—no, I’m not. Most of my teammates are out of country.” He replies. “I’m from Russia. Just here to play hockey.”

“Do you like it? Here in Raleigh?” You ask, a pitiful form of small talk to keep this sudden tension at bay.

“I do.” He replies. “I like it a whole lot more now that I’ve met you, though.” And then he’s smiling again, a grin rather feral as he looks at you like you’re his prey waiting to be devoured. He’s incredibly smooth as he puts his hands back on you, one sliding around the circumference of your waist while the other brings your hand holding the drink to his lips, taking a sip from the glass.

Your eyes go half-lidded at the motion, and Andrei knows he has you—hook, line, and sinker. He loves this game, but he thinks he likes you a little bit more than that, too.

Not that he’ll ever admit it.

“You just met me,” You blurt, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

Andrei, to his credit, takes your nervousness in stride. He finds it cute that he has that effect on you. “And I like you,” He counters, flashing a dazzling smile. “You’re cute. Small, like kisa.”

“Kisa?” You try out the unfamiliar word, your attempt at a Russian accent definitely not as sexy as his.

“Kitten,” He translates. “Will you purr for me?” It’s so disgustingly cheesy you can’t help but grimace, and Andrei laughs at the look on your face.

He steps closer, even more than he was before, and the way he looks down on you only makes the difference in height that much more noticeable. He’s so big… Normally you’d feel caged, but with him it feels safe, and that’s probably a red flag you won’t discover until much later.

You struggle finding something to say, but he beats you to it. “I’d like your number, if you’re willing to give it.” And he’s so smooth, so conniving with the way he asks it because he’s not demanding at all, letting you think you have all the power.

“Okay,” You breathe, eyes widening in awe as you don’t even have the chance to pull out your phone before he’s sliding his own into your hands. “You can add your contact.” He instructs, watching you type in your information.

It looks informal, your first and last name in his phone like you’re merely a coworker. You’ll blame it on you being tipsy later, but you add a smiley face at the end of your name, hoping it makes you stand out. You don’t know how many girls he has in his contacts but you’re not naive enough to think you’re the only one.

You lick your lips almost subconsciously as you hand Andrei his phone back, and he zeroes in on the motion. Suddenly, he has the urge to kiss you, and so he does just that. It catches you by surprise, but soon enough you’re melting into him as one large hand cradles your jaw, keeping you tilted up to him.

Andrei tastes like sin, like temptation and all things bad you were told to never get involved in as a kid. A forbidden fruit, perhaps, and there’s even hints of cranberry left on his tongue to cement that fact.

“Andrei…” You hum in surprise as he deepens the kiss, his lips soft and heavenly. It takes everything in you to pull back, to separate yourself from the addicting taste of him. “Wait, I don’t, um—”

You pause. Andrei looks confused, perhaps a little alarmed as his eyes flit over your face. “You don’t… Kiss anyone?”

“No! No,” You lower your voice, not wanting to attract any attention. “Of course I do. I just, I don’t hook up. For fun. Ever.”

He frowns, like he can’t fathom the idea that you don’t enjoy sex with no strings attached.

“Really,” he says, not quite a question. “You’re beautiful, though.” The charm comes back full force as his hand comes to brush away some of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Surely you have suitors, no?”

Your throat tightens, and suddenly your eyes are glassy as he looks at you with so much reassurance and affection. “Maria usually gets the ‘suitors’, not me.”

“I don’t believe that.” He responds immediately, and he looks so sure of himself as his head lowers, his eyes looking back and forth from yours to your lips, and you’re helpless to stop him as the hand moving your hair comes to rest on your cheek.

It’s all very convincing, the sudden care and adoration… You’ve never had a man treat you so delicate, like a prized possession, and you fall for it all too quickly.

“Let me take you out?” He soon asks, and there’s nothing you can really respond with other than yes.

Everything happens so quickly from here. Andrei becomes a centerpiece in your life, and you’re helpless to stop it as you fall for everything about him. You don’t truly become his ‘girlfriend’, but you are something more. Secret dates and midnight drives where no one can see you confirm that.

That’s why you think he’s finally turning serious about you when he shows up to your apartment at the beginning of March a few weeks before his playoffs start. He holds a large bouquet of roses, except your favorite flowers are gardenias because they remind you of your mom so your smile wobbles a little bit, but you let it slide for the romanticism of it all.

Andrei grins, the whites of his teeth blinding and he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. He asks you if you’ll come to his playoff games, wear a WAG jacket and act as if what you are is official. You think you truly mean something to him after this, even though he never actually confirms it.

Suddenly you’re Andrei’s girl (but not really) and it becomes your entire identity. You essentially live with him as the playoffs come around, taking care of his apartment while he’s on the road. He talks of getting a dog over the summer, and you’re enthusiastic in your encouragement because you’ll have a friend to keep you company while he’s on the road.

His injury happens, though, and he’s out for good, at least for the rest of the season. You don’t know how to comfort him because your ‘relationship’ is so new, and it’s hard for you to understand why the anger at himself cuts so deep.

Ultimately, you fix the rough patch with sex. Lots and lots of sex. He works through his frustrations by taking you long, hard, and deep, mostly with him on top holding your throat while you take it like the good girl he tells you you are.

“‘Drei, your leg,” You remember saying to him one time as he slams you onto his bed, rolling directly on top of you. He doesn’t seem to hear you at first, too busy laying kisses to your neck.

“I don’t care.” He eventually responds, looking at you so darkly it leaves you shivering. He eats you out afterwards, and, well—you don’t have any more protests after that.

They win the first series against the New York Islanders in six games, and the moment the final goal is scored in overtime you’re jumping out of your seat along with the other WAG’s at one of their houses.

It’s exhilarating, rooting for something with every ounce of your being. You do it for Andrei - who still isn’t playing, but he was there watching - but mostly for yourself because you love the feeling of belonging to a community so close.

The second series ends sooner than the first, a five game victory over the New Jersey Devils, and this time you are at that final game. You sit with Andrei in a private booth at the top of PNC Arena, gripping his arm that also holds onto your thigh with the same amount of intensity.

The moment the final goal is scored - also in overtime - you’re hunching over your seat releasing a long breath. Andrei attempts to rise, then likely remembers his leg which forces him to grip the arms of his chair in strained acceptance.

“They did it,” You hear him whisper, like he can’t believe they actually came out of this series alive. “They did it.” He repeats himself, louder and more confident. You’re still folded over yourself, letting the anxiety drain out of you when he grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together.

“My kisa,” He says, waiting for you to turn your head so he can smile brilliantly at you. “We did it.”

“Not we,” And you grin back, because there’s nothing else for you to do but match his ecstasy. “You did it.”

“I didn’t even play,” Andrei is laughing, soaking in your praise like a sponge. “But I was here, wasn’t I?”

“You mean more to them than you’ll ever know.” More to me than you’ll ever know, you want to say, but hold back on that particular vulnerability.

After he finishes the team meeting in the locker room, you take him back to his house. He still hasn’t been given the all clear to drive, so you’ve taken up caretaker duties along with his mother.

You don’t think she likes you very much, either, but Andrei just says it takes a while for her to warm up to new people. Thankfully, she’s never around when you are though, because as you close the front door to his house he gives you a look equating to a meal he wants to devour.

Andrei seems to forget all about his knee, again, when he moves into you, pushing you back against the front door. “You drive me crazy.” He mumbles into your lips, and you don’t think you’re meant to respond as he moves to your neck.

You wore his jersey tonight, hoping it would bring the team good luck. You also happen to like how possessive he gets when he sees you in his clothes, especially wearing his name. It’s a little ridiculous, but you can’t lie and say you don’t love the attention.

Biting into your jugular, he tastes your rapidly beating heart before moving on, addicted to the sound of the moan that chokes its way out of your throat.

“I’m going to fuck you,” He breathes, massaging his hands into your waist as he pulls you away from the door. “And you’re going to love it, aren’t you? Because you’re such a good girl. My good girl.” His raspy voice leaves you holding back a whimper, and it’s hard to speak as he begins to sneak his hands under your jersey.

When you don’t respond because you’re too distracted by his hands, his damn hands, trailing up your ribs, he digs his fingers harshly into your skin. Your eyes snap open to find him almost glaring.

“Yes,” You think he wants to hear you say. “I’m yours.” You babble as his fingers let up, moving to cup your breasts over your bra as he pinches your nipples into hard points.

“That’s right,” He hums almost mockingly, hands now back to your waist as he pulls you after him to the path of his room. “No one else can make you feel like I do, yeah?”

This time he doesn’t expect a response as he pushes his door open, turning you around as you fall into his bed. Your head spins as the jersey you’re wearing rides up and Andrei quickly does the rest, slipping it off you with ease.

“Fuck,” You think he says, but you could care less as his bare hands are back on you, kneading the soft skin of your stomach and trailing back up the length of your torso. “No shirt underneath?”

“It was too hot outside,” You reply, breathless as you attempt to tug his suit and tie off, but that quickly proves to be more difficult. He tsks, thankfully deciding to aid you as he rids himself of his jacket. “You’re lucky that jersey is so thick.” He says, moreso to himself as he begins unbuttoning his slacks.

All that’s left is his undershirt and boxers, meanwhile you’re still left in your bra, jeans, and panties. Andrei must realize this too as he kicks his slacks off somewhere behind him. “Strip,” He commands, but you don’t need the reminder as you’re already one step ahead of him.

Your jeans and panties come off quickly, but it’s harder to remove your bra lying down. You eye the delicious specimen of a man above you, reaching out your hand for his own. “Help me?” You ask, biting your bottom lip before rolling onto your stomach.

Andrei mutters something behind you, but it’s clearly appraisal as the first thing his hands land on is your bare ass. He spends a few moments appreciating the view before his fingers trail up your back, unclipping your bra much quicker than you ever could have.

“You, kisa, are dangerous,” He teases, lowering himself to where his solid chest is pressing down on your back. He loves taking you from behind, tangling his hands in your hair while you’re left to his mercy.

He noses his way past your hair to reach your neck, lightly nipping the skin as you sigh, your head melting to the side so he can continue his ministrations.

“Andrei, please,” You hiss, the wetness between your thighs now too prominent to ignore. You wiggle your hips tantalizingly, hoping to catch his attention.

He grins into your neck, doesn’t respond as he presses a final kiss to your pulse point before pulling back, his right hand sweeping the rest of your hair to the side.

“You need me to touch you?” He asks, smoothing his left hand over your hip before slipping it to the inside of your thighs. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it ever so lightly to feel you flinch with sensitivity underneath him.

You tremble underneath him as he continues stroking you, and your hips jerk upward when two of his fingers slip past your walls and curl. He’s laughing as your ears ring, and already you’re so close to coming when his thumb rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his hand.

Just like everything else about you, though, he knows; he knows and he pulls back before you even have the chance to swear because then the last layer of clothing between you is gone. His boxers are thrown somewhere behind him along with his undershirt, and now he wastes no time pulling your hips up, leaving your chest pressed into the bed.

So used to this familiar position, you look behind you in anticipation to find him stroking his cock, staring at your glistening pussy with barely contained arousal. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for, but then he’s sliding his free hand through your soaked lips to gather the wetness there, using it as lubricant.

“Shit,” He says, swearing more to himself before climbing atop you. It’s routine the way he grabs your hair, tangles it in his fingers while the other guides his swollen cock to your entrance. The bulbous head pushes into you with ease, finding no resistance as he sinks into you.

Andrei hisses, mutters something in Russian, then is lowering his head to press his lips to your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight. You just feel so good all the time, you know that, kisa?”

The only sound capable of coming out your mouth is a whimper as you bury your face into the sheets as his hips begin thrusting, hitting your sweet spot with bullseye accuracy each time.

The girth of him stretches you out deliciously, and it leaves your walls clenching and unclenching rhythmically in time with his movements. You mold to him like your body was made for him, like there’s no other way to exist without him taking you in such primal fashion.

Andrei’s head rests in the crook of your neck, murmuring indiscernible phrases while his hands trail up and down your body. His hips rut against your clit each time he thrusts forward, and if anything you get wetter at the thought of him fucking you so callously.

You feel like his most precious belonging sometimes, like an object. It can be disorienting when he talks to you like you’re a child, but when he fucks you it’s like that preciousness he views you with is amplified.

You flinch upward when his cock curves into you just right, and the way he coos into your ear to bring you back down only verifies that thought. He wants to take care of you, always—even if it demeans you.

Andrei suddenly rolls over onto his back, bringing you with him to where you’re the one on top with your back laying against his chest. He sits up, and now you’re in his lap, thighs spread to the side as he once again begins fucking into you.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream as your head rolls back onto his shoulder, the new angle forcing his cock into deeper lengths inside you, and it hurts but it hurts so good and why were you ever questioning how he treats you, again?

How has only one man ever been able to make you feel this good?

Euphoria floods your veins as his hands find purchase on your body, one taking your left tit and rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other sneaks down to the junction of your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing over it mercilessly.

When your stomach starts clenching and your lower spine tingles, Andrei is right back at your ear whispering encouragement. “That’s it, angel,” He praises. “That’s it. You want to come, yeah? Do it. I’ve got you.”

His name leaves your mouth as a breathless whine, and you struggle not to flinch away from his touch when it becomes too much but also not enough, and somehow he knows this and just holds you tighter.

When his cock hits you so deliciously good while his thumb swipes over your clit, you fall. You fall hard, the walls of your cunt seizing around him as ecstasy takes over your body. Sparks fly across your skin, stars filling the empty blackness behind your closed eyes and you think you’re sobbing Andrei’s name but you can’t be sure. The only thing you can be sure of is him; his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his teeth on your neck as he approaches his high.

Yours lasts for longer than normal because he doesn’t stop moving—if anything, he goes faster, because the sight and feeling of sending you into a spiral only triggers his own release.

By now you’re motionless, unable to even lift your head as it remains lying against his shoulder. Andrei’s thrusts are frenzied, more sloppy and less precise, until he’s throwing his own back with a long, pleasure-filled groan.

Eventually, he stills. His chest is rising and falling behind you rapidly, attempting to collect himself now that his mind is back in the present. You sigh, quietly yet happy, as his cock softens inside you but doesn’t move, his release slowly trickling down your conjoined bodies.

You suddenly remember that he didn’t lose a condom, but then you remind yourself that you’d stopped using condoms weeks before. You were already on birth control, and he assured you this was exclusive.

You were a fool to believe him.

Andrei soon moves, his hands taking to your hips as he gently lifts you off of him. “I know,” He says when you hiss with sensitivity. “I’ve got you, good girl…” He lays you on your back, and you don’t move from your position even as he leaves the room.

Your eyes soon flutter shut, and you curl to the side as the minutes go by with no sign of return. It’s not regret that fills your mind, no, but another emotion, something stronger than just satisfaction at getting such a pleasurable release.

You don’t dare to think of the world ‘love’, but maybe something similar to that is what you’re feeling?

It doesn’t help that just as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, Andrei comes back to your naked form while he’s now adorned in sweatpants. You merely hum as he sits on the edge of his bed next to you, one of his hands reaching out to trail up your arm. When he reaches your face he brushes away the hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead from cooling sweat, letting your skin breathe.

He says something, so quiet it’s impossible to hear over the sound of your thundering heart, and you don’t have the energy to ask as you finally succumb to exhaustion.

Andrei cleans you up after, dries the inside of your legs and slides one of his t-shirts over you. He tucks you under his sheets and pulls you into his arms, letting your hair tickle his cheeks.

The Eastern Conference Final arrives far quicker than any of you are prepared for, and games one and two against the Florida Panthers are full of anxious nail-biting and frustrated cursing when the puck hits the goal post.

Both games end in overtime losses, and the team has to play games three and four in enemy territory, down by two.

Andrei, understandably, isn’t taking it well. It's hard for the players on the ice, of course, but even harder when he has to sit at the sidelines, hidden in a booth at the top of the arena with you doing your best to comfort him.

“Why can’t they just fucking score?” You remember him hissing before the end of regulation in game two, not angry at his teammates but at the situation instead.

And himself, too, because he is the injured one. He is the one who tore his ACL making it so that he couldn’t play. It isn’t his fault, but it is at the same time and that’s what’s truly getting to him.

As the timer hit zero, he’d leaned back in his chair and grabbed your hand without thought, squeezing your fingers to the point of strangulation.

You let him, though, because at that point you’d let him do anything.

“I’m sorry.” You said, your eyes on him the entire time. It pained you to see him so miserable, and there was nothing you could do to make it better. “This isn’t your fault. It’s… Blame Bobrovsky, okay? He’s just too—”

You interrupted yourself, not wanting to say ‘good’ even if that’s true because you didn’t want to upset him with the implication that his teammates couldn’t be better.

Andrei, to give him credit, didn’t take offense. His eyes were on you the moment you started your ramble, and as you finally paused to gauge the look on his face you found amusement and unbridled affection in his gaze.

“Too good?” He finished your sentence, waiting for your meek nod of confirmation. Merely sighing, he only brought your intertwined fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand. “You’re right, kisa. He is too good.”

You stay back in Raleigh while the team, including Andrei, takes flight to Sunrise, Florida. Most of the WAG’s stay back too, the majority already anticipating the result of this series.

Hours after the team’s flight, Maria calls you late on the eve of game three.

“Hey, Mare!” You answer, lowering the volume of whatever show is on the television to better hear her. “What’s up?”

“Hey, girl!” She chirps, and you can hear voices in the background so you assume she’s somewhere busy. “Just landed in Florida!”

“You flew to Florida?” You ask, choking slightly. “Since when?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you! The team needed extra people since we’re staying here for longer than a night.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Is all you say because you don’t, in fact, remember, and suddenly feel really guilty about it. You haven’t actually spoken to Maria face-to-face in weeks, having been caught up in everything Andrei-related.

You haven’t talked to lots of people you were close to before Andrei came into the picture, now that you think about it. It’s a problem you’re sure to reflect on when you’re done talking to your friend.

“...bunch of us are going out tonight since the game isn’t until later tomorrow night, including a lot of the team.”

Maria’s voice tunes back in, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts to catch-up. “Really?” You inquire, now suddenly interested. “Is Andrei going with them?”

You could ask him yourself, sure, but you don’t really talk about that stuff, what he does or what you do in your free time. It always felt invasive to ask because you weren’t quite sure if you even had the right to, considering the nature of your relationship.

You doubt he thinks about what you do when you’re not with him, anyway, so you always just assume you can live in the moment with him and have that be good enough.

“Dunno,” She replies. “Can’t you ask him yourself? You’re seeing the man, after all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice at the last sentence.

“Um,” You stall, because no, you can’t just ask. “He just got off the plane, I don’t want to bother him.”

“Mhm,” Maria hums, and you can’t tell if she’s suspicious or not by her tone alone. “True. I’ll just text you if anything interesting happens, okay? Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” You can’t help but laugh at her sudden hastiness, and soon enough she’s hanging up the phone with the claim that the team bus is there to take her to the hotel.

As your call with Maria is in the early afternoon, you have a while to wait before all night life in Florida begins, so any updates will take time to roll in. You know this, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

Distracting yourself by shopping helps, as does meeting up with a few of the WAG’s for a late lunch. You’re able to put your anxiety in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, and as the sun sets you pull back up to Andrei’s house and let yourself in with the spare key given to you, mind at peace as you float around his living space in preparation for bed.

You almost considered his place your home now, rather than your actual apartment. You’ve been spending so much time here, with him and also alone as everything with him seems to be going so good… When you settle into his bed, wearing one of Andrei’s large t-shirts and boxers, you check your phone one last time for any updates.

There’s a few Instagram notifications, one or two emails from your university, only one message in the groupchat with the WAG’s, and a text from Andrei which is what you zero in on first.

Settled in the hotel now. Leg is hurting, so I’m going to bed early tonight. Text you tomorrow, okay?

There’s no silly emojis, no indication of any emotion in his text, and yet you read the message with a smile, insecurities officially gone. His teammates are going out tonight, not him, and you don’t have to worry about Maria texting you later because there would be nothing to update you on.

How could you have ever doubted him?

You fall asleep peacefully, unbeknownst to the fact that long after midnight, your phone begins blowing up with silent notifications from Maria. She does, in fact, send you updates of her night out, but not updates you’ll smile at when you wake up the next day.

Sunlight filtered through closed eyes is what has you slowly awakening to the world of consciousness, and you stretch your arms with a yawn before reaching for your phone first thing. It’s hot to the touch, and at first you attribute that to it being stuck under your pillow the entire night, but upon unlocking the screen you discover that that is not the case.

WTF did you and Andrei break up?????

He’s here with the rest of the guys and he’s highkey flirting with some randos???

I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were done w/ him!

You’re prettier than them btw. I snuck a few pics

Several more messages from Maria have taken over your inbox, those are just the first you see. It takes your brain a minute to catch-up, but when it finally does you’re sitting up with bated breath as you tap on one of the images she sent.

It’s definitely Andrei—you’d know his face anywhere. He is, in fact, surrounded by girls in the picture, his arm wrapped around the waist of a gorgeous blonde with a drink in his other hand, and it’s so reminiscent of the way he holds you at clubs that you know, you know immediately that this is what you meant to him all along.

The affectionate name-calling, gentle hand-holding and constant touching… You thought he looked back at you like you hung the moon, but now you’re realizing that maybe you were just projecting the reflection of your own starstruck eyes instead.

You sit up in bed, hand pressed to your forehead as a sudden headache rips through your brain. What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Remembering that you’re actually in this man’s house, in his clothes, too, has you jumping up like you’ve been burned, and you quickly exit the bedroom to collapse on the couch instead.

“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief as you click through more of the images sent to you from last night. There’s no denying to yourself that he was with these women, all while supposedly having a significant other waiting for him at home.

There’s no one to witness the slow breakdown of your sanity, and you can’t even cry because you’re so in shock about what you’re seeing

Is this real? Are you real? Is this really happening?

It’s almost like a switch in your brain goes off, and very quickly you drop your phone. You take a deep breath, you bury your raging emotions, and you stand up from the couch to start your day.

You refuse to allow yourself to break down now. Not when you still haven’t spoken to him. At the very least you’ll wait until you have an explanation…

To confront him on your very strong feelings you’ve been doing your best to ignore until now, because they’re too real in the wake of this discovery to just vanish away like you’ve done before.

You need to know where you stand with him. Truly, because these pictures you can’t stop thinking about? It’s too much. You can’t pretend it doesn’t feel like thousands of little knives stabbing your heart repeatedly even if it all means nothing to him.

Everything goes back to normal. Everything is fine. You never saw those pictures, ignored Maria's continuing calls and acted as if your world wasn’t suddenly tilted on its axis.

Andrei doesn’t text you at all throughout the day, which can probably be attributed to preparation of game three, but all you can think about are the girls he might be texting.

Because he certainly isn’t texting you.

Game three results in a loss, a bad one, and it would pain you to see the reactions on their faces filtered through the television if you weren’t so numb.

He still doesn’t text you. Doesn’t call, either, and Maria eventually gives up on trying to reach you as game four approaches.

The impending doom of Andrei bares down on you like a vice, slowly strangling you in the screaming silence of his house you still remain in. Maybe this is something you should have seen coming because it isn’t the first time he’s gone radio silent, you just assumed he was busy—because that’s what he told you.

You’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have listened.

You love him though, right? That’s why you believed him? That’s what you’re feeling right now, why it’s like you can barely breathe when you think of his smile or the way he’s betrayed you so?

The Panthers sweep the Hurricanes, a complete four-game victory that sends Andrei and the rest of the team licking their wounds all the way back to North Carolina. You don’t watch the fourth game with anyone but yourself and a bottle of wine while catching up on homework for one of your classes.

Becoming so close to Andrei meant you became close to the rest of his teammates too, to the point where you’d consider some of them your good friends, so seeing their faces broadcasted live after the final goal is devastating to see.

Not as devastating as the text you receive, though, in the midst of trying to figure out what to say to him the moment he steps foot inside his house.

I won’t be home tonight, heading straight out with some of the younger guys. I will see you tomorrow

Well. You can’t say you’re surprised. You’re willing to bet money he’s out sleeping with some random girl whose name he won’t remember the next day. Instead of letting the anxiety take over, anger takes its place instead.

And boy do you run with it because anger is so much better than feeling powerless. It simmers in your blood, a wildfire settling low in your stomach until you’re practically shaking while waiting for Andrei to walk through the front door the next day.

When he finally does, you’re so mad you’re numb. Your anger has turned you into a ghost, an attempt at protecting your fragile heart from more heartbreak likely to fall upon you the moment he tries to charm you back into his good graces.

Once he spots you sitting on the couch, he smiles in greeting. It’s soft, and you’d like to say affectionate, but you no longer can tell how deep his feelings run for you.

Clearly, not deep enough.

“Kisa,” He says. “How are you? I’m sorry I was out late.”

“It’s fine,” You respond tightly. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice, merely nods before walking past you to the kitchen. You follow him silently, trying to figure out how to phrase your next words.

You end up settling on a subtle approach. “I’m sorry about the games… I know it must’ve sucked having to watch.”

He scoffs immediately, mutters something you don’t catch but still doesn’t turn around to face you as he rummages through his fridge. “It definitely was not fun to sit there, no.” He replies.

“Is that why you didn’t come back last night? You were coping with the loss?” You’re hoping your strong reference to his late-night escapades will spark something in him, but alas you still seem to be wrong and all he does is cast you a furtive glance before going back to his business.

God, you were just going to have to wring this out of him, weren’t you?

“Andrei,” You start, taking a deep breath. He still doesn’t stir. “Andrei, I know.”

Finally, he stops. Pauses mid-motion of whatever he’s doing, and his shoulders seem to tense in preparation of your foreboding words.

“There’s other girls, right? It’s not just me?” Your voice is already wobbling, and you’re glad he’s still refusing to face you because your eyes are slowly filling with tears, the agony of these last few days catching up to you.

This is when Andrei finally turns around. He meets your eyes last after scanning up and down your body; the clothes you’re wearing that aren’t his, your nails digging into your hands, and finally the bright flush of your face as you struggle not to explode.

“What do you mean?” Is what he says, looking at you calculatingly.

“Don’t play dumb with me, ‘Drei,” You whisper, invisible wires constricting around your throat as you force yourself to continue speaking. “Maria told me. She saw you. And you lied to me.”

Andrei doesn’t speak. He just stares, fingers clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide if he should approach you or not. After what seems like hours of silent battle, he replies, starting out by saying your name like a warning. “She… Maria had no right to tell you that.”

“Because I’m not actually your girlfriend, right?” Your response is immediate, and it hurts him if the flinch on his face is anything to go by. “You don’t owe me anything. Not a title, responsibility. You never promised me any of that so sleeping with other girls is perfectly okay.”

Everything you’re saying is true but it’s all wrong the way you’re looking at each other. Tears are now openly streaming down your cheeks and Andrei hasn’t moved since the moment you opened your mouth.

“Nothing to say?” It’s defeated, your entire demeanor as your shoulders sag and you fight the urge to collapse. “Yeah. I—I wouldn’t know what to say either.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrei whispers, and he doesn’t fight you which makes it all the more devastating. Everything you’re saying is true and it’s still all so wrong but he isn’t fighting you and wow, you’re really about to lose him, aren’t you?

“I think the worst part of this for me is that I actually let myself fall in love with you.” It’s your last-ditch effort of getting something out of him, anything that proves this isn’t completely one-sided on your end.

Andrei looks gutted at that. But he steels his resolve, his eyes go cold and he clenches his jaw as you try, one last time, to reach him.

“Do you love me?”

He’s staring at the wall behind you. No words fall from the lips you’ve kissed a thousand times until they finally do, and this is when you come to the realization that you’re ruined. You won’t ever look at another man the same because Andrei will forever haunt you in everything that you are and what you do.

“No. I don’t.”

You don’t put up much of a fight after that. You wave your white flag and slip past him to grab the small bag you’d packed earlier in preparation.

Andrei doesn’t move from his spot in the kitchen once. His face is tight, eyes dark and anguished as you drop his spare key on the counter. You look at him one last time, will him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.

He never does—so you leave and you don’t look back.

It hurts worse because there really wasn’t a fight. There was no screaming, breaking glass, hurling insults at each other; it was a quiet acceptance of the end of a relationship that had no chance of lasting.

That’s what gets you. Not just because it’s over, but because he doesn’t love you like you love him.

You can’t believe you let yourself fall for it.

When you finally make it back to your apartment it feels like walking into an alternate reality, especially after an agonizing drive back full of nothing but silence and your thoughts.

You’ve practically lived with Andrei the last few months so much that you’ve forgotten you had a life before him. Maria comes to your mind immediately at that thought, and you can’t think of anything else you need more right now than your best friend.

Her phone only rings twice before she picks up. She says your name warily, likely because she hasn’t heard a word from you in two days.

“Hey,” You whimper, and you hate that you can tell how broken you sound. “Um, you were right. About Andrei. I… Talked to him about it. We’re done.”

There’s silence on the other end for several moments. Then:

“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over, and I’m bringing the fattest bottle of wine known to man, okay?”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears.

“Don’t respond, you can’t say no. I’ll see you in a few!”

And, well, you do nothing but let her hang up as you stare at your blank lock screen for a minute. Something possesses you to try and freshen up even though it’s just Maria, so you make your way to your bathroom.

Opening the door, your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror, your tear-stained eyes the same color red as the lipstick you wore the first time you met him. The same red of your heart, too, as you feel the shattering of it now more than ever.

It all goes back to him. Everything about you, your identity as ‘his girl’ reducing you to someone who doesn’t exist without him.

Fuck you, Andrei, you want to yell. Fuck you and fuck everything you put me through.

As you furiously rub your eyes, you realize you don’t know who you are anymore. You let yourself be molded into an unfamiliar version of yourself, into someone just for Andrei to want to keep around.

The tears start again, and you’re left sniffling in the suffocating silence of your bathroom. The only person who knew you, the you now, is gone.

And suddenly, you find yourself alone.

Well… Not totally alone. “Fuck him!” Maria shouts after she breaks into your apartment (she has your spare key) after you’d collapsed onto your couch and refused to open the door. “Seriously, fuck him. You’re way too good for him.”

“Weren’t you the one who convinced me to sleep with him in the first place?” Is your weak rebuttal, muffled and almost imperceptible as your head is burrowed in a pillow.

Your friend tsks, likely waving her arms around in that expressive way she does. “Yes, well. I never claimed to see the future. But now we know him for the piece of shit he is!”

Maria is your closest friend, yes, but you also know her to be someone who tells you what you want to hear. Right now, you’re feeling vengeful and angry, so she’s feeding into those emotions to make you feel better.

You know, in two months time or however long it takes you to process this, when you start missing him and tiptoe around the idea of calling him, she’ll support you then, too.

Which probably isn’t what you need, but, whatever. You’re just grateful you have someone on your side.

“I need…” You start, not quite sure how to phrase what you’re wanting. “I need to forget.”

“A one nightstand type of forget or get so drunk you pass out type of forget?”

You wrinkle your nose at the thought of sleeping with someone so soon. As much as you hate it, you don’t think you’ll ever stop craving Andrei’s body.

No man ever could make you feel that good…

“Get drunk,” You say, quirking a small smile at the whoop she lets out. “I can’t fuck someone right now. At least not yet.”

“Yeah,” The blonde agrees, sighing almost wistfully. “I’d feel the same if I knew what his dick felt like.”

“Maria!” You shriek, throwing a spare pillow as hard as you can her way. It misses, but does the job of lightening the mood and keeps you giggling the rest of the night.

She does her job in making you forget, though. Makes you put on one of your shortest dresses and gets you drink after drink until you’re hunched over a toilet in the back of some bar gagging your stomach out.

You wake up the next day with the worst hangover ever, but Maria is fairing the same and somehow you consider it worth it. Maybe you can live your life again without him.

You’ve done it before, right?

And really, it’s ridiculous when you let yourself think about how you’d only been seeing the man for five months and he completely managed to send your world careening in that timespan. So, you don’t let yourself think about it. Instead, you live.

For yourself, for your friends, for your heart that won’t ever be full but feels a little bit better every time you wake up each day without Andrei next to you.

You graduate university with your bachelor’s and get a job that’s even better than your last, and you make a really good group of friends at said-job without Maria’s help (though she’ll always be your best). The summer passes by with melancholy laughter and gentle healing, and while your first love always remains in the back of your mind, you think about him less.

So much less that you lose track of time, not even realizing that October of twenty twenty-three is here and the NHL season is starting back up. You haven’t spoken to any of the WAG’s since you broke it off with Andrei, assuming you would no longer be welcome in the ‘clique’ and preferring to separate yourself from a group associated with someone who brought you so much pain, so there haven’t been any reminders about the new season from them.

The memories of him are fleeting. They’ll come to you at random times, and now that you’ve lived in the past yet again, you can forget about the end where Andrei is a distant thought but every time his name is brought up it squeezes your heart so much you can’t breathe.

You’re doing better. Truly, you are. You’d stopped crying over him long ago, and you might have gone to class with swollen eyes and showed up to work despondent, but you’re working through it in your own way. Healing isn’t linear but you’re making progress slowly but surely.

One day, you wake up with a sudden determination to officially ‘get back out there’, per Maria’s words. There’s nothing spectacular about this day; it’s only mid-November, the weather in that awkward stage of autumn morphing into winter.

Maybe it’s because the night before you’d succumbed to the urge to search up the Hurricanes’ schedule, curious to when they’d be home and not.

It’s only a coincidence that they have a home game when you call your friends from work, asking if they’d like to go out after everyone gets off. It’s also a coincidence when you meet someone at said-bar you attend, and it’s absolutely insane how if you squint he kind of looks like Andrei.

Oh, but he’s so, so sweet… His name is Jack and he buys you and your friends drinks, keeps a respectful distance yet never strays far when you’re wrapped into another conversation. He asks for your number at the end of the night and you give it to him without hesitation, taking note of the way he creates your contact in his phone himself.

“You like cats?” He asks as he’s still typing away, and your breath catches in your throat because it’s a question that makes you think of the first night you met him. When you don’t respond, he gestures towards your keychain attached to the strap of your handbag.

“You have little kittens on your keychain. I think that’s what I’ll add to your name, yeah?” Jack laughs a little shyly, and it’s cute but you keep replaying kisa in your mind over and over in a Russian accent you never could quite imitate.

“Yeah, I do like cats,” You say, flushing at the sudden amusement in his eyes. “I like them a lot.”

Jack doesn’t waste any time texting you the next day, and the normalcy of it freaks you out a little. Where’s the anxiety? The stomach-dropping nerves that come with talking to someone new? The constant wondering if they like you or not?

It’s so safe and secure that it hurts, because it was never like that before.

Everyone in your life is so supportive, though, but that only makes it worse because they can see how good this man is for you, but why can’t you? You feel like pulling your hair out when he texts you good morning and goodnight and sick to your stomach when he shows up during your lunch break with flowers.

However, there’s no one is more enthusiastic about Jack's new presence in your life than Maria.

“He’s a dream guy, honestly,” She swoons, kicking her feet back on her ottoman. “You’re so lucky. I would kill for a guy I met at a bar to be so smitten with me he shows up to my job with flowers.”

You hum in agreement, unable to come up with something to say. “He… Yeah, it’s nice, I guess.”

The blonde eyes you from where you’re curled up on her couch, deliberately avoiding her stare as you mindlessly watch whatever is on the TV. “You guess? He’s perfect!”

“On paper,” You retort, huffing slightly in frustration at yourself because why can’t you see what everyone else sees? “I don’t really know him.”

“Yet. You don’t really know him yet.” She helpfully points out. “Why don’t you want to give him a chance?”

“I… I do. I am giving him a chance. Maybe I’m just not feeling it.”

“He’s not Andrei, babe.”

You fight the powerful urge to scoff. I know, you want to scream. I know. That’s the problem.

Jack is too perfect for you. You want the ups and downs, the electrifying chemistry, the undeniable connection you’ve felt with no one else before. You crave the feeling of those past five months, of being with someone who lit you up to your very core.

It’s been almost eight months and you still can’t get him out of your head.

You give Jack a rightful chance, though, like everyone in your life is begging you to. You can’t bring yourself to end it because there really is nothing wrong, it’s a perfect getting-to-know-you stage which checks off all the boxes. It’s just that you don’t want normal because normal is boring.

You want chaos. And Andrei is chaos personified.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria is still very good friends with a lot of the WAG’s and talks about you when they ask. They miss you, it turns out, but your friend never tells you this in fear of sending you into a depressive spiral that tends to happen when they’re brought up. They’re ecstatic to hear that your life seems to be going so well after the breakup, especially after seeing Andrei’s reaction to it all.

This is something Maria doesn’t tell you, either. She’s such a good friend, protecting your heart like that. Andrei did not come out of his house after you ended it the same person; he was a little darker, a little angrier, frustrated in a way that suggested nothing could be done to fix it.

It doesn’t help that he couldn’t take it out by playing hockey, because he wasn’t cleared to play until the end of October, a month into the regular season.

He never admits his sour mood is partly to blame you for. Not that it’s your fault—he’s the one who fucked up, not you.

Never you.

Maria knows all of this and still gives him the cold shoulder for his treatment of you. None of the girls were very happy after finding out while his teammates just gave him awkward pats on the back. It doesn’t stop him from finding out about you, though, and what you’re up to.

The WAG’s talk. They’re gossip machines, and while normally he hates them for it because he always has to watch what he says around them, this time he’s thankful because they tell their husbands and boyfriends everything.

He’s at Martin and his girlfriend, Nykki’s, apartment watching their cavapoo, Gigi, when he finds out you’re seeing someone new. They’re heatedly talking about something when they walk in and don’t see him on the floor cuddling Gigi, so he doesn’t interrupt.

“I mean, I’m not surprised, but wow. It certainly took her a while to move on, didn’t it?”

He hears a smack, assumes Nykki has hit him on the arm like she typically does when he pisses her off. “She loved him, of course it took time!”

“Ow!” He hisses, though it’s clearly in jest. “Well, yeah, but like… It’s been months. And it’s not like she’s in contact with any of us anymore to remind her of him.” Andrei notes the sourness in his teammate’s voice, feels his heart drop because he thinks he knows who they’re talking about, now.

“Still,” Nykki replies. “I was so sad after my first heartbreak. They take a while to heal from, especially when it’s not a clean ending. It’s no secret how Andrei treated her.” She’s frowning when she continues. “I wish I could give her a hug, but I get it. I wouldn’t want to see any of us, either.”

Martin sighs. “I get it, too. I sure do miss the wine she’d bring though. She had the best fucking taste, ever.”

“Of course you only miss her for her alcohol.”

Andrei decides to clear his throat at this moment. When he does so, Martin and Nykki whip their heads towards him on the floor, surprise and guilt decorating their faces when they see him holding Gigi rather dejectedly.

He starts by saying your name, even surprises himself when it comes out biting and, dare he say it… Jealous? “She’s seeing someone?”

Martin and Nykki share a glance. Gigi chooses this as the time to leap up from his lap and run towards her parents where Martin happily picks her up. “I’m going to go take her out. Thanks for watching, ‘Drei!” He quickly flees the apartment, and Nykki says something under her breath as she glares after him.

They both know Andrei isn’t letting this go.

“Do you remember Maria, her friend? Works in the Hurricanes’ marketing department?” She eventually says, joining him on the floor.

“The blonde one? Yes,” He replies, and even though there are many blondes working for the team he knows exactly who she’s talking about. She’s your best friend, after all, and he knows everything about you.

Like how he knows you will never get over him. Conceited? Yes, but he had (has) you wrapped around his finger.

“Well, she talks to a lot of us still, despite everything that happened. And she tells us things.” Nykki pauses, almost like she’s scared to go on.

“Things like?” Andrei inquires. “How she is doing? Who she is doing?”

She glares at him then, eyes narrowing into slits. “Not that you really have a right to know, but yes.”

His fingers dig into his palms and his jaw cramps with how much he’s trying to keep from exploding.

“So, she’s seeing some guy now?” He scoffs like the very idea is incredulous. As if whatever pathetic excuse of a man you’re talking to could ever compare to him.

“She has a right to move on, Andrei. You should too. You ruined her.”

That fact remains true, but he still has no desire to ever let you go as he deliberately ignores her advice, well-meaning as it is.

How ruined could you really be if you’re already with somebody else?

Unfortunately, it’s impossible to run into you because you avoid him like the plague. You know everywhere he and his teammates frequent so you stopped showing up long ago, and he’s pretty sure you keep a several hundred-foot radius between you and PNC Arena at all times. He doesn’t blame you, but it pisses him off to know he can’t easily find you.

Christmas passes, you spend it with Jack and Andrei spends it with his Russian teammates. The New Year arrives just as quickly, and as he locks lips with some random girl at the party he’s at he thinks of you. Wonders who you’re with, if you’re kissing that guy Nykki told him about.

You actually flew back home to spend it with your parents, giving Jack some weak excuse about how you weren’t able to see them over the holidays.

North Carolina winter is in full force as February of twenty twenty-four rolls around, and your life remains inexplicably boring while Andrei’s picks up. The Hurricanes are finally having a redemption arc after their awful first-half of the season, and thus are heading out to celebrate far more often than normal.

They’re more daring in where they choose to go, too, wanting to branch out of their norms, because why not?

This is really unfortunate for you. Horrifying, actually, because you’re out with your friends, Jack, and his friends too when the team comes strolling in. Eyes instantly shoot their way, aweing at the miniature celebrities in their own right for finally bringing a good professional sports team to NC.

The moment Andrei steps foot in the establishment you know. Your skin catches fire, your ears ring, and your heart thunders inside your chest because only man can set off your senses so powerfully.

You look away from Jack - who thankfully doesn’t notice, he’s sucked into a conversation with one of his friends - and find Andrei approaching the bar with Martin and Seth. He hasn’t noticed you yet and you try to keep that from happening as you sink down into your seat, flashing your friends an exaggerated smile when they eye you curiously.

You’re unable to hide for long, though, when a song bursts from the speakers and sends everyone into an excited frenzy, your group included as they crowd the dance.

Luckily you’re able to escape that particular rally and wave Jack off when he asks you if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” You shout over the bass rattling your eardrums. “Just letting my drink settle a bit.”

He doesn’t question you, merely nods and smiles before disappearing somewhere with his friends. Now, you’re alone, and you can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing because now you have a perfect view of Andrei and his teammates leaning against the bar, looking far too good as they do so.

You can’t keep your eyes off him. You never could, especially can’t now as you soak up every little change your eyes can see. He has a scruff now, a sexy five o’clock shadow that you know firsthand how it feels between your thighs. His hair is a little longer, too—you wonder if it’s still as soft as you remember.

Jack suddenly appears from a break in the crowd and oh, yeah, fuck you can’t be thinking about your ex like this, can you? No, you aren’t officially with Jack, but it’s still wrong. He likes you so much, you know this, and you… Don’t hate him?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bemoan to yourself, torn between the angel on your left and the devil on your right that don’t give you the chance to decide because you feel eyes baring into your skull, begging you to notice them. Your entire being freezes, stuck in between some weird limbo as you lock eyes with Andrei for the first time in months.

There’s no one else but you and him as neither one of you refuses to break first, and you only lose eye contact when a group of people walks between you. When they’re gone and you’re able to freely look again, you realize he’s gone from his spot at the bar. All his teammates are still there, and they’ve now spotted you too.

Would it be wrong to call an uber and just tell Jack you felt sick?

Your name is suddenly being whispered into your ear, and you would have flinched if the sound of his voice didn’t have you relaxing back into your seat. You refuse to look up at first, because if you look at him so close to you again you’ll fold.

“Andrei,” You greet, quietly. “How are you?” You still aren’t looking at him, choosing to swirl around the drink in your hand instead.

“I’m good,” He replies, so close you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You lean into it almost subconsciously until he’s sliding into the booth next to you, pressing the two of you together. “How are you, my kisa?”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You retort, finally meeting his eyes to cast him a withering glare.

“No?” Andrei reaches a hand up to brush some stray hairs from your face. So delicate his touch, he trails his hand down your cheek, your neck, and down your waist until landing on your thigh. You don’t stop him, either.

“That’s funny. I could have sworn that you’re mine.”

“I’m not,” You squirm under his touch, unable to push him away. “I haven’t been in months. Wasn’t ever ‘yours’ to begin with. You made sure of that.”

Andrei doesn’t appreciate the call out. The way his face twists is mean and you know whatever he’s going to say will hurt. “Right,” He scoffs, is snide with the way he tones it. “But you’re his?”

He gestures towards Jack, who thankfully is enraptured in a tense game of pool on the other side of the room. You don’t question how he already knows that’s who you’re with.

“I’m not anyone’s, Andrei.”

“Yes you are. You might have thought that because we haven’t seen each other we are just over?” He leans into you, doesn’t let you break eye contact as he gets so close your noses touch. “No. I bet me being so close to you right now has you soaked, and you want to know how I know that?”

Your throat is tight as you swallow. You can’t look away as you move to shake your head, but strange, because it comes out as a nod instead.

“You’re not ‘over me’, malyshka. You’ll never be over me. You love me.”

His grin is feral, his words biting as they cut through you at such a vulnerable level it has you flinching back from his touch immediately.

“Oh, fuck you, Andrei,” You hiss, an angry sheen of tears starting to gloss over your eyes. “Fuck you. I don’t love you anymore—especially not now.”

You move to slip around him but his arm shoots out and stops you in your tracks, leaving you frozen as he stands to tower over you.

“Careful,” He murmurs. “Your boy over there might think something’s wrong. Maybe I should introduce myself, make sure he knows I would never dare hurt you.”

“You don’t have to touch me to hurt me. You did that plenty without having to lift a finger.” You retort. “Now, get out of my way. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“But what if I want to talk to you?” You really hate the height difference between the two of you right now because it takes no effort at all for him to slide a muscular arm around your waist and keep you glued to his side. “Maybe I have missed you.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” You mutter, but he ignores you as he begins to lead you away from the booth you were in before. “My friends will wonder where I am if I’m not at the booth when they get back.”

“Not worried about your boy?” He mocks, noting the way you don’t mention Jack at all. “They won’t have enough time to notice.”

You narrow your eyes at his insinuating words as he stops at the bar, waving down the bartender who comes immediately. “His name is Jack.” You mutter, thinking he can’t hear you. He continues talking, ignoring you, and you’re unable to hear him over the noise so you don’t bother trying to understand what he’s asking for.

Soon enough there’s a drink sliding across the bar counter and Andrei pushes it in front of you. You eye the glass, making note of the fact that the liquid is red. “Vodka cranberry,” He confirms what you’re already thinking.

You flash back to the night you first met and suddenly you want nothing to do with the drink in front of you. “No thanks, I don’t want it.” You say, trying to step away.

You don’t get far, though, because he’s grabbing your wrist and tugging you rather harshly back to him. “Drink it,” He demands, watches your eyes and the way they dart from his face and back to the glass nervously. He sighs, then, like he’s realized something and lets go of your wrist only to land back on your hip. “It’s… Nothing is wrong with it. I didn’t touch it.”

He thinks you’re worried about being drugged? You almost laugh but manage to hold it back, because of course he doesn’t remember that this is the first drink he ever got you.

Your heart beats a little faster as you concede, finally picking up the drink and taking a tiny sip. He waits for your reaction like he’s the one who made it. “It’s good,” You finally say, licking the sweetness from your lips.

Andrei watches you, your eyes, your lips, everything about as time seems to stop and it’s just you and him, like it’s supposed to be.

You haven’t changed all that much, and you can tell he likes that. Your hair is a little shorter, you’re perhaps a little thinner now that you’re not on a college student diet, but you’re still you.

Andrei hasn’t changed either. You’re the same yet so different, and it’s incredibly difficult resisting the temptation to fall back into old habits.

“I’ve missed you,” He admits quietly, and you think it’s sincere this time. You wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t standing so close together.

Your heart thunders in your chest. You might be sweating out of nerves, or maybe it’s just the club. Your hands itch to touch him, and with more alcohol in you thanks to the cranberry you don’t stop Andrei as he succumbs to his urges first and uses one, large hand to cup your cheek.

You shudder as he caresses the skin, his thumb landing on your bottom lip and stroking it lightly. “Andrei,” You breathe, pupils blown wide. “You can’t—we can’t…”

He tilts his head, reminiscent of a dog. “Why not? You are not single?” He has you. He knows you know he does. You aren’t nearly as committed to Jack as much as you’d like yourself to be.

“I can’t do that to him,” You try weakly, already feeling your will bending to the persuasiveness of his touch.

His head lowers, hand remaining on your cheek as he brushes your lips together. You crave it, you realize, and move to fully push your mouths together but he’s pulling back before you get the chance.

“Go to the bathroom.” He says. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Will you?” You ask, the double-meaning clear as you stare at each other, neither willing to break.

Andrei’s face is unreadable. You can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing as his hands land on your hips and he turns you around in the direction of the restrooms. “Go,” He taps your ass, nudging you forward. “I’ll be there.”

You give in this time. You’re aware of the astronomically bad decision you’re making as you cut the line, faking a sick stomach and whispering ‘sorry’ over and over again in your head as the nice ladies let you through.

When you close the door you immediately make your way to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, and with mussed hair and smudged lipstick you should be feeling ashamed.

All you feel is anticipation, though. For Andrei’s hands on your body, for his mouth to kiss all the spots he’s missed.

Several minutes go by and the knocks on the bathroom door become more frequent. You think he’s bailed on you - it certainly wouldn’t be the first time - but then you hear his voice outside.

“Da, yes, she’s in there,” A pause. “She’s my girlfriend, she needs me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, turning to face the door as he knocks and can hear his voice more clearly.

Yes, you do need him.

“Kisa,” He says, slightly muffled but you feel the effect he has on you is all the same. “I’m here. Let me in?” He’s almost begging, and you quickly unlock the door as he pushes through.

His smile is mischievous as he closes the door behind him. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He purposefully raises his voice, shows faux concern and plays it up in case anyone is listening outside.

“You’re so dramatic,” You say, pulling him down to you by the collar of his shirt. Now that you’re alone you don’t bother pretending you don’t want him as much as you do. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Andrei relents immediately, closing the distance between the two of you. Both his hands come up to the sides of your head to keep you in place, tilting you in whatever way he likes. His lips are just as soft as you remember, and your bodies move together like they were never apart.

He’s demanding as he begins pushing you back, crowding you against the tiny bathroom wall. His words from outside come back to you suddenly, and you break the kiss to catch a breath as his lips begin a trail across your cheeks. “Girlfriend?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I had to get them to let me through somehow.” It’s not what you want to hear but you lose the urge to fight him on it as he reaches your neck and begins sucking little hickeys onto the sensitive skin. Your head falls back with a sigh, uncaring of your hair catching whatever germs might lie on the wall.

You let Andrei do what he wants to your neck for a few moments, then when the urge to taste his lips comes again you grab the back of his hair and pull him up to you. He goes willingly, and you moan into his mouth as he continues to push back against you so hard you can feel his dick through his jeans.

He pulls back much too soon for your taste, and you try to follow but suddenly one of the hands holding your head comes down to wrap around your throat, restricting your breath as he pushes you back. You go to speak, but his other hand is leaving your face to unbutton his jeans one-handed.

You watch, eyes heavy-lidded. “‘Drei?” The weight on your neck is comfortable, so you don’t bother moving as he shoves the rest of his jeans along with his boxers down his thick thighs.

“You want to talk to other guys?” He starts with a bite. “Then you can remember the taste of my cock in your mouth while you do it.”

Your blood pressure skyrockets as the hand on your throat leaves to pull your hair back out of your face, grasps it like a rope, and pushes you down to your knees.

You’re at eye-level with his cock as it bobs in front of you, angry and swollen with beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip. He stares down at you expectantly, has to hold back a groan at your wide-eyed gaze looking so innocent.

As your lips wrap around his tip he’s reminded of the fact that no, you are not innocent. He made you that way. Fucked you like no man ever could. Ruined you for everyone but him. His feelings for you are complicated, but he does understand one thing…

Andrei doesn’t want you, not really. But he hates to think about you with somebody else.

Your tongue is masterful in its work as it swirls around his head, and once you get comfortable you begin going down. His head falls back and this time he doesn’t hold back his noises as your warm, wet mouth envelopes him.

“Missed this mouth,” He grunts as you suck. “Like it much better when you can’t speak.”

It’s insulting and degrading, yet it doesn’t fail to turn you on as you squirm and rub your thighs together in hopes it’ll give you the friction you need.

His hand in your hair soon starts pulling, sliding your mouth forward and back in increasing motions as he gets closer. He’s unabashedly groaning now, and you can see his abs clench when you suck a certain way.

Suddenly, you have the urge to have him fall apart before you. Maybe it’s revenge, wanting to see him lose control for you like you’ve done for him so many times; you tilt your head, using your tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his cock and that has him jerking into you.

“Fuck,” He hisses. “Good girl. Just like that.” The praise goes directly to your clit, and you whimper as it throbs with no relief.

Despite being apart for almost a year, you still know what every twitch of his body means. You know he’s close because the hand in your hair is gripping you tighter, you can feel the steadily increasing tempo of his heartbeat through his pulsing cock, and his thighs are ever so slightly trembling underneath your hands.

You want him to come in your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more; your efforts increase and you dig your nails into his skin to hear him hiss and as his thrusts pick up he starts hitting the back of your throat.

Internally thanking your lacking gag reflex, you don’t flinch as he picks up speed, now blatantly using your mouth for his own pleasure with little regard for your comfort. “Shit, baby,” He blurts, desperate. “I’m gonna cum.” You hum in response, the vibrations of the sound finally throwing him over the edge.

Andrei throws his head back for a final time, one long groan emulating from his unfairly sculpted chest as his cum hits the back of your throat. You’ve always loved the taste of him and this time is no different as you suck him deeper, not wanting to waste a drop.

He takes a few moments to collect himself and in that timeframe your ears slowly stop ringing and you come back to reality, finding that your knees ache from being pressed into the floor and there are loud voices coming from outside the bathroom door.

As you move to stand, he too seems to remember where you’re at and uses both arms to pull you the rest of the way until you’re back to standing. You swipe your hair out of your face as his thumb comes to your lip, wiping away a stray drop of his release.

Despite the post-orgasmic clarity, he looks at you with softness and something else swimming in his dark eyes. “You’re still good at that,” He states. “Been sucking anyone else off?” His words are quiet but every bit threatening as you note the possessiveness in his tone.

“No,” You gasp as his thumb pushes its way into your mouth. “Just you. Only you,”

“That’s right,” He says. “Just me. Only me.” Then he’s spinning you around, fingers remaining pressed into your mouth while the other trails up your spine until he’s gripping the back of your neck. “Hear them outside?” He asks.

The ‘them’ he’s referring to, you realize, are the voices outside the bathroom. They’re much louder now, a few knocks mixed in, and you wonder with slight panic how a manager hasn’t come to unlock the door yet.

“They sound very angry, don’t they?” That same hand on the back of your neck strokes your skin, slowly working its way down to your waistband. “So we better make it quick. Hands on the wall, kisa,”

You know the moment he pulls down your pants he’ll find you to be unabashedly soaking. Despite claiming to be in a hurry, he takes his time working open the button of your jeans, grazing the skin above your panties before ever so slowly sliding them down your legs.

“Andrei,” You hiss, impatient. “Hurry up!” As the hand in your mouth retreats, you realize you’re both needy and nervous, an overwhelming combination.

He only laughs. “Someone is needy,” He mocks, holding your hips in place when you try wiggling against him. “Patience.” Leaning into your ear he murmurs this, staying this way as he fully slides your jeans past your knees.

Andrei sneaks his hand in between your thighs, something resembling a growl rumbling from his chest when his fingers find your dripping folds, feeling how you throb for him. “Missed this pussy even more,” He breathes, lubricating his fingers with your slick before slowly circling your clit. Your arms shake from where they hold you up and it’s a battle to keep yourself from collapsing.

“You are just made for me, aren’t you?”

You’re so wet you practically suck him in as he guides his dick to your entrance, and he wastes no preamble as he pushes in. If he thought your mouth was heaven after so much time apart, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him in so deep doesn’t even compare. His hands are digging into your hips as he ruts into you fully with one thrust, panting as your warmth contracts around him.

“Still so fucking tight,” He marvels like he can’t believe it, like it’s a dream you feel even better than when he replays the memories of you on repeat. “You been waiting for me?” He’s not expecting a response as his rhythm picks up, finding a familiar pace for the both of you that has him swearing under his breath and you struggling not to shout your pleasure to the rooftops.

“God,” You cry out when the head of his cock directly hits your g-spot, your hips jerking up so hard you would have fallen if it weren’t for Andrei holding you up. “Fuck, Andrei, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Andrei laughs, a sound that would have been more menacing if he also wasn’t gasping for air. “Already?” He mocks. “I barely touched you, baby,”

You don’t have to touch me, it’s on the tip of your tongue waiting to be blurted out. You don’t have to touch me for me to be on my knees for you. The words are ready, but instead all that comes out is a moan and maybe that’s for the best because he probably wouldn’t respond as well as he does in your dreams.

He’s unaware of your internal dilemma as he leans over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back. “Gotta be fast,” He reminds you, as if you’d forgotten. “You ready?”

“No, I—I can’t,” Because you don’t want this to be over. You don’t want to cum because he’ll follow you right after and then when clarity hits he’ll leave you again and you’ll be back to square one.

“Yes, you can” He croons. “I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, I’m right here.” You want to sob as one of his hands leaves your hip and finds the junction of your bodies, gentle fingers prodding your pussy spread-wide around him until he finds your clit and rubs.

Your body is trembling and you can’t tell if you’re trying to move towards him or away, but it doesn’t matter anyways because he has you trapped between the wall and his body and the unrelenting pace of his hips slamming into you.

You have a sudden urge to look him in the eyes before you come undone by his cock and his fingers, so you crane your head to the side and watch him watch you. His hair is damp from sweat at the corners of his hairline, his lips slightly open as he pants and you think you spot him lick his lips when he catches you staring. You go to say something but he swoops down, catching your mouth with his own and promptly shuts you up.

Andrei doesn’t relent in his motions despite the uncomfortable position, not letting you break from his lips by removing his hand at your hip and gripping your face to keep you right here. He owns you, at this point, mind, body, and soul as your lungs beg for breath while your clit throbs beneath his fingers and oh, oh, there it is and you’re gone—

You feel the rough pads of his fingers bullying your clit but you don’t really focus on it until now, how the calloused ridges carelessly sweep over you with no semblance of relief and only when you body abruptly freezes does he part from you, but only slightly, leaving a hair’s width of space between your lips. “Beautiful,” He says, under his breath so quietly you don’t hear him as your bones catch fire and your brain short-circuits.

Heat sears you from the inside-out and you do nothing but endure as Andrei rocks you through it. There’s tears of ecstasy streaming down your face, you’re sure of it now, and you think he’s wiping them from your cheeks but you can’t open your eyes enough to check.

It takes a few minutes, but once your heart stops racing you can hear your favorite voice swearing behind you and only then do you comprehend him still moving inside you, but before you can whine at the sensitivity he’s stilling with a long, drawn-out groan.

You don’t dare speak first, nor are you the first to move. The air around you is stagnant with tension as you rest your head on your arms, breathing deeply to catch your breath. What does this mean? You’re spiraling already and it’s only been minutes since your desperate fuck in this bathroom.

Eventually, Andrei moves first. He slides his softened dick from you with a hiss and you feel his cum trickling out without him there to keep it plugged in. Wrinkling your nose at the feeling of having to walk around with wet inner thighs now, you slowly stand up as his hands fall from your body. You slide your panties and jeans back up the rest of your legs, ignoring the uncomfortable sensitivity of being covered once again.

Neither of you speaks a word. You want to cry suddenly, and this time not from pleasure. “What did we just do?” You manage to choke out, your voice so hoarse you have to clear it. He’s clearly planning on just leaving without a word but you’re not going to let him.

You stare at him expectantly. He’s turned around so all you have in your view is his slide profile, clearly struggling with what to say as his jaw clenches tightly.

“Nothing,” He finally says, and he might as well just fucking stab you in the back. “We did nothing. You’re going to go back out there and pretend nothing happened because it didn’t.”

Oh, he makes you so angry. You can’t believe you’d forgotten that. “You’re serious?” You know he is but you don’t want to believe it.

Andrei meets your glassy eyes and you wish you could read him like he so easily can read you. He looks as conflicted as the day you walked out of his house for the last time, like he has so many words to say but refuses to let them fall from his lips. Just like then, you know this rendezvous means more to him than just a meaningless hookup.

If only he’d admit it…

He exhales a shaky breath as another loud knock disturbs you. “We need to go.” He dodges your question just like he dodges every issue in his life, especially in regards to you. “Come on, kisa.”

“You can’t just call me that, after—after this,” You hiss as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the door. You panic on the inside as he unlocks it because once you leave this dirty sanctuary you know your problems will only get worse.

Strange, how Andrei manages to make everything worse despite making you feel so good.

As if your emotions don’t matter to him (they really don’t), he flashes you a grin as he drags you behind him, past the angry horde of people who, now that you think about it, definitely know you were fucking. “I know you like it.” Spoken so simply, so plain, you hate that he’s right.

You’ll always like it. Always love him. For as long as you’re hung up over him it will always come back to bite you in the ass and he knows this too.

It’s why, without shame, his arm is curled possessively around your waist as he leads you through the crowd of people. Your friends, Jack, don’t even cross your mind as he does so.

“Go find your friends,” He soon leans down to whisper in your ear. “Then find Jack. Tell him you felt sick and had to use the bathroom.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You snap, purposefully antagonizing him.

Andrei merely raises a brow at you. “You can always stay with me, with my cum dripping down your legs, and explain to everyone how you missed me so much you couldn’t stay away.”

You want to hit him. You almost do, but he continues before you actually go through with it.

“I wonder what Jack would say?” Of course he was listening to you earlier. He ignored you then, of course, but he listened.

And yeah, okay, you get it. Not a good idea to let everyone you know see you with him. He doesn’t want his friends to see him with you, either.

“Trying to get rid of me?” You ask, intending to sound sarcastic but it comes off as more insecure than you wanted it to.

You know he is, but you can’t help but ask for confirmation. Maybe it would help you move on to hear how little he actually cares for you.

“I don’t think I could get rid of you if I tried,” He replies. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “You’ll never get rid of me though.”

He’s right, again. You hate so much that he is because you both know you’ll be crawling back the moment he calls.

You want to cry again as his arm leaves your waist, the absence of his heat leaving you shivering.

Andrei looks at you for a long time, just appraising. He tilts his head like he doesn’t know what to think, but then he spots something behind you and starts backing up.

“I will see you again someday, kisa.” He winks at you, and then he’s gone.

Someone behind you taps your shoulder while speaking into your ear, a voice you recognize as one of the girls you came with. You should probably focus, banish Andrei from your mind, but you don’t.

You strain your neck, watching for him through the crowd. He’s back at the bar with his friends, his teammates you once knew.

He’s laughing at something one of them said. Like he wasn’t just with you, fucking you against the bathroom walls.

“Are you okay?” Your friend behind you asks, the one thing from her you do catch.

“Yeah,” You say, swallowing despite the dryness in your throat. Andrei is talking to more people now, girls that have approached him, you notice. “I’m fine.”

He looks gorgeous under the lights. You catch his brilliant smile, the glimmer of his eyes, and those lips you can never get enough of. You soon lose sight of him amidst the throng of people, but his fleeting allure forever lingers...

Like a steadfast reminder, a haunting echo of what can never be.

A/N: Well, that was fun. I hurt my own feelings writing this but it was worth it. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please remember to reblog & comment!!

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

Text

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐔𝐒 ─ AS³⁷

TRACK 4 ─── DOWN BAD

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | one summer, one town and the fullest love you've ever felt all to be ripped away from you. life was pointless without the love of your life, your soulmate (even if you'd only known him for three months).

─ word count | 3.4k

─ warnings | dramatic af, oh god, so so so so so much angst WITH NO HAPPY ENDING (ur gonna cry by the end of this), where do i even begin? love bombing, LYING AF, andrei being mysterious asf, mention of life being hopeless, very depressive themes and like.. babygirl is GOING THROUGH ITTTT, maybe even suicidal themes (depends on your perspective), lmk if i missed anything else?

─ ev's notes | down bad has been on repeat since friday, it's genuinely so addicting (but like... the entire album is so?)

YOU LIFE FELT ABSOLUTELY hopeless, like the color was drained from it.

How could one summer change the whole trajectory of your life, you're not sure. Your entire perspective of love had been turned upside down, each day felt like a struggle just to breathe, let alone find any semblance of meaning or joy. It was as if the universe had conspired to strip away every ounce of hope, leaving behind only an empty shell of a person.

How could you let someone con you so easily? Make you believe that you were his soulmate, only to absolutely wreck you? You couldn't help but wonder if he felt even a shred of sympathy and if he ever stopped to think about you, like you did with him?

How could you have been so naive, so blindly hopeful in the face of his deceit? The wounds he inflicted cut deeper than mere flesh and bone; they pierced straight to the core of your being, leaving behind scars that may never fully heal.

You could barely get out of bed ─ you can't even remember a time when you didn't know him, even if you'd know him a short span of time. The weight of his absence feels like a physical force, pinning you down to the bed as if gravity itself has conspired against you. How could you go on without him, when every corner of your world still echoes with his presence?

It's as if he had woven himself into the fabric of your being, leaving no thread untouched by his influence. Even the simplest of tasks feel overwhelming without his guidance, his encouragement, his love.

You try to remember a time before him, a time when your heart beat to a rhythm untouched by his melody. But the memories blur together, distorted by the prism of his existence. It's as if he had always been there, a constant presence in your life, one way or another.

──

"Are you a local?"

You turned around to face the voice that had drawn you out of your thoughts, an annoyed expression on your face. But as you looked up to meet his chocolate brown eyes, all the irritation had quickly dissipated.

First, you noticed his eyes ─ they were so big and brown, you could feel yourself get lost in them. Then your gaze fell to his lips and ultimately, his smile and his dimple. Whoa, he was gorgeous.

"Uh, yeah." You got out as you managed a smile, turning to face him completely.

His smile widened at your response, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at the sight of it. It was infectious, lighting up his face in a way that made it impossible to look away.

"Great!" he replied, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm here on vacation. Any recommendations on where to grab a bite to eat?"

His voice carried a hint of a Russian accent weaving through each word like a thread of silk. It added an extra layer of intrigue to his already captivating presence, drawing you in even further.

"Actually, there's this little café a few blocks down the street that serves amazing sandwiches," you offered, your voice betraying a hint of excitement. "I could show you, if you'd like."

God, what were you doing? You didn't even know what you were saying before the words flew out of your mouth. To your surprised, his smile widened into a grin as he nodded.

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he nodded in agreement. "I would love that," he replied, his accent lending a charming cadence to his words.

As you stood up from his seat, you took in his build; you just realized how tall he was. He towered over you, his frame exuding a quiet strength that only added to his allure. It was as if he commanded the space around him effortlessly, a gentle giant in a world full of noise.

Together, you made your way out of the café and onto the street, the sounds of the city fading into the background as you fell into step beside him. His presence was comforting, reassuring, like a steady anchor in the midst of chaos even though you'd just met the stranger.

As you walked, you found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the sunlight caught in his hair, the way his eyes crinkled with laughter at something you said.

Arriving at the café, you found a table by the window. As you settled in, the conversation began flowing effortlessly between you. With each passing moment, you felt yourself drawn deeper into his orbit, captivated by the way his presence seemed to fill the room with warmth.

"So, what do you do, Andrei?" You found yourself asking as he paused for a moment, taking a sip of his drink before sighing.

"I'd... I'd hoped you didn't ask that." Andrei's tone came out amusing but you could hear the sincerity, too. "I play for the Hurricanes. A hockey team."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise at Andrei's revelation. "The Hurricanes? That's impressive,"

"It is, but it's very demanding. That's why I came here," he explained as a smile began playing on his lips. "To get away from everything, even just for summer."

"Why would you want to get away?" You asked, your curiosity getting the best of you. As you registered your words, you shook your head as you sighed. "You don't have to answer that."

Andrei's smile softened, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes at your understanding. "No, it's okay," he replied, his voice carrying a note of sincerity. "Sometimes, even the things we love can become overwhelming. I guess I just needed a break, a chance to clear my head and remember what's really important."

"I get that," you said, a small smile playing on your lips. "Sometimes, we all need a moment to step back and breathe, to remind ourselves of who we are outside of our titles and our accomplishments."

Andrei's gaze softened, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, you felt a weird connection for a moment. He let out a small chuckle as he looked away, a tinge of redness enveloping his cheeks.

"You wanna get out of here? I still haven't seen the beach and I've been here for two days." Andrei's voice was amused as his gaze finally flickered back to you.

His chuckle was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the sight of his flushed cheeks. There was something endearing about his candidness, a rawness that drew you in even closer.

"Absolutely," you replied, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

After that, the two of you spent every moment together. You didn't know why you were so drawn to him ─ it wasn't just how abosolutely beautiful he was, that wasn't even a factor after you'd spent the whole week with him. It was something more, something raw you hadn't felt in a while ─ or maybe even ever.

In Andrei's presence, you felt as if you were seeing the world through new eyes. He showed you the beauty in the simplest of moments ─ the way sunlight danced on the water, the sound of laughter echoing through the streets of your hometown that you'd walked in a million times (somehow, it was different now with him), the warmth of a shared smile exchanged between two strangers.

But it wasn't just the external world that he illuminated for you; it was your own heart. With each conversation, each shared comfortable silence, he peeled back the layers of your soul, revealing the raw, unfiltered truth that lay beneath. In his arms, you felt safe, cherished, loved in a way you swear you'd never experienced before. It was a love that transcended the physical, a love that touched the very core of your being and left you breathless with wonder.

And as you lay beneath the stars in his arms, the night sky stretching out above you like a vast canvas waiting to be painted, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. For in Andrei's embrace, you had found something real ─ something cosmic and eternal.

──

"Do you ever wonder," he begins, his voice soft but filled with a sense of wonder, "if there's more to the universe than what we can see?"

You both gaze out of the bay window for a moment, the night sky stretching out before you like a vast canvas scattered with stars.

"It's... it's something I've thought about," you reply, your voice barely a whisper in the quiet of the night. "The universe is so vast, so incomprehensibly large. It's hard to believe that we're the only ones out here, you know?"

Andrei nods in agreement, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Exactly," he says, his gaze returning to the stars above. "I like to think that there's something out there, something greater than ourselves. Something that binds us all together, even when we're worlds apart."

"Yeah," you replied, your voice barely audible. "All the time, actually. It's... overwhelming, sometimes, to think about how big the universe is, how insignificant we are in comparison."

Andrei nodded, his gaze fixed on the stars twinkling in the night sky. "But isn't it also kind of liberating?" he mused.

"To know that we're just a small part of something so much bigger than ourselves? It makes all our worries and fears seem so... trivial, in the grand scheme of things."

"You're right," you said, a sense of wonder creeping into your voice. "It's like no matter what happens in our lives, the universe will keep on spinning, the stars will keep on shining. It's... comforting, in a way."

Andrei smiled, a warmth spreading through you at the sight of it. "Exactly," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

A comfortable silence filled the air before he spoke up again. "You know... when we met, when I said I wanted a break?" A pang of uncertainty flickered within you at his words, but you nodded, inviting him to continue with a gentle tilt of your head.

Andrei's gaze softened as he reached out to take your hand, his touch grounding you in the present moment. "I didn't just mean from hockey," he confessed. "I meant from everything ─ the pressure, the expectations, the constant scrutiny. I needed a break from the world, from myself."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of truth. You listened in silence, feeling the gravity of his confession settle over you like a blanket.

"I came here seeking some kind of relief from the chaos of my life," Andrei continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "But what I found was so much more than that. I found you."

The sincerity in his voice struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions you had long kept buried beneath the surface. In that moment, you realized just how much he had come to mean to you, how integral he had become to the fabric of your existence.

You'd felt like you'd known him lifetimes but in reality, you'd only known him only a couple weeks. And yet, in those fleeting weeks, Andrei had become more than just a passing acquaintance; he had become a beacon of light in the darkness, a source of comfort in a world of uncertainty.

──

Andrei's arms wrapped around your waist as you both watched the sunset go down. His large frame practically engulfed you as he stood behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. The warm summer breeze caressed your skin, carrying with it the scent of salt and sea. You leaned back into Andrei's embrace, feeling his hands squeeze your hips.

"Let's go for a swim, yeah?" Andrei's breathe hit your neck as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine as his warm breath danced across your skin.

His suggestion brought a smile to your lips, the idea of plunging into the cool embrace of the ocean sounding utterly inviting. You turned in Andrei's arms, a playful glint in your eyes as you met his gaze.

"Are you sure?" You teased, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "The water might be colder than you think."

Andrei's lips curved into a smirk, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Only one way to find out,"

"Wait, Andrei-" Before you could protest more, Andrei pulled you up on his shoulders. You let out a fit of giggles as he carried you out to the deeper waters, his strong arms supporting you effortlessly as you clung to him, your laughter mingling with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

"Ready?" Andrei called over his shoulder, his voice filled with excitement.

You nodded, your heart pounding with anticipation. With a smirk, Andrei took a few more steps forward, and then, without warning, he jumped, sending you both crashing into the cool embrace of the ocean.

For a moment, you were weightless, suspended in the currents, the sound of laughter and splashing filling the air around you. And as you surfaced, gasping for breath and laughing with joy, you felt a sense of freedom wash over you ─ a freedom that only comes from letting go and embracing the spontaneity of the moment.

Andrei's laughter joined yours as he helped you to steady yourself in the water, his eyes sparkling with mischief and joy. "See? Wasn't so bad, was it?"

You grinned up at Andrei, the exhilaration of the moment coursing through your veins. "Definitely not."

Andrei grinned, his smile lighting up his face as he tugged you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

He stared into your eyes, the grin still on his red face before he grabbed your chin and pushed his lips against yours. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

As you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his lips on yours, you knew with unwavering certainty that this was where you belonged; in his arms, consumed by love.

His touch was electric, sending sparks dancing across your skin as you lost yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his lips moving against yours. And as you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you found yourself lost in the depths of Andrei's gaze. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own desires, mirrored back to you with an intensity that left you breathless.

He caught his breath as he laughed, giving your cheek another kiss. "I don't know how to explain how I feel about you, it's something I don't think I've felt in a long time. Or... ever."

"I feel it too," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath of air. "Whatever it is, it's real. And that's all that matters."

Andrei's gaze softened, a smile playing on his lips as he reached out to gently caress your cheek. "I'm just glad we found each other," he said, his voice filled with quiet certainty. "And no matter what the future may hold, I'll always be by your side. You're like..."

He paused as he laughed, shaking his head with amusement. "My soulmate, or something like that."

You couldn't help but smile at his playful tone, feeling a surge of affection well up within you. "Your soulmate, huh?" you teased, "I can live with that."

Before you could fully grasp it, it had slipped away, fleeting in its passing. It was over before it even fully started. The summer had come to a close, and Andrei was talking about leaving back to Carolina.

You knew it was coming, of course it was coming. He had to go back to his home, where he worked, where his everything was. What about you? Hadn't you become his everything, just as he had become yours? Where did you fit into his world once he was gone?

And then one morning you awoke and he was gone.

It felt like something you'd seen in a movie, or read in a book. Confusion clouded your mind as you glanced around the room, searching for any sign of him. But as your gaze fell upon the empty drawers where his clothes once laid, reality came crashing down around you.

It was over.

The realization hit you like a tidal wave, sweeping away the remnants of the life you had built together over the summer. And in that moment, you felt a profound sense of loss wash over you, a hollow ache that echoed in the depths of your soul. You had known it was coming, of course. He had obligations, a life waiting for him back home. But that didn't make the pain any less palpable, the sense of abandonment any less hurtful.

Was all of it a lie? The laughter, the whispered promises, the moments shared beneath the stars – were they nothing more than empty words, hollow gestures meant to deceive?

The days following his departure, it felt hollow. It felt like you'd awoken from a daydream, something that only existed in your head. Was it really not as serious as you'd thought? Was he really not in love, as you were with him?

Life loss all of it's meaning, you never thought you'd be that girl: the girl who let a man absolutely reroot her entire life, just for him to leave. Had you really become that pathetic?

The days turned into weeks and the hollowness didn't fade, it turned into numbness then ultimately into a sense of emptiness that seemed to permeate every aspect of your being. It was as if a part of you had been hollowed out, leaving behind nothing but a void that echoed with the absence of his presence.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself grappling with questions that had no answers. Was it all a lie? Had he ever truly cared for you, or were you just another pawn in his game? Had you ever really known him, your Andrei? The one who held you, laughed with you, whispered promises of forever beneath the stars? Or had he been someone else entirely, a stranger acting as the love of your life?

The uncertainty gnawed at you, a relentless beast that refused to be tamed. You replayed every moment, every word, every touch, searching for clues that would unravel the mystery of his true intentions. But the more you searched, the more elusive the answers became, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

You found yourself crying every night, every free moment you spent bawling your eyes out over a man you're sure you'd never really known, just another stranger who had walked into your life and turned it upside down.

The pain was like a physical ache, a weight pressing down on your chest until it felt like you could hardly breathe. How could someone you had cared for so deeply have caused you so much pain? How could you have been so blind to the truth of his intentions?

You needed him again, life felt meaningless ─ no, life was meaningless without him. Nothing felt worth having without him. Without him, life felt like a barren wasteland, devoid of color and purpose. Every moment seemed to stretch on endlessly, each day blending into the next in a monotonous haze.

You found yourself longing for his presence, for the sound of his laughter and the warmth of his embrace. Without him by your side, even the simplest pleasures felt empty, leaving you adrift in a sea of loneliness. What was the point of it all, you wondered, if he wasn't there to share it with you?

No one would ever make you feel like he did, no one would ever manage to love you like he once had. It was a truth that cut to the core of your being, leaving you feeling exposed in its wake.

How could you ever hope to find happiness again when the one person who had made you feel truly alive was now gone from your life?

You tried to fill the void with distractions – with work, with friends, with anything that would help numb the ache of his absence. But no matter how hard you tried, the emptiness remained, a gaping wound that refused to heal.

In the depths of your despair, you found yourself questioning everything ─ your worth, your purpose, your very existence. What was the point of it all, you wondered, if he wasn't there to share it with you?

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov moodboard #andrei svechnikov smut #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes x you

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starry-hughes · 6 months

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bah humbug (andrei svechnikov)

day 11 of star’s ficmas

andrei svechnikov x reader

Andrei didn’t understand why you were so adverse to staying in his apartment. He had been staying at your apartment for a couple of days now when he could. You would get weird about staying at his place and he didn’t understand why.

“What are you doing?” you almost shouted as Andrei was leaning down to unplug your Christmas tree for the night. Your apartment had been decorated since November 1st. A decorated Christmas tree, stockings hanging on the TV stand, tinsel everywhere, Christmas blankets on the couch. Andrei didn’t exactly like decorating for everything.

He was a bit of a humbug during the holidays. For the first holiday season you shared with him, you chalked it up to the fact that he was missing his family and home. But then, he just wouldn’t decorate. His apartment was always clean and the only decorations was a framed photo of you and him in the living room above the tv.

“Turning off the tree for bed?”

You shook your head, “No! It has to stay on! It’s supposed to shine pretty at night!”

His eyebrows furrowed together but he let it go. You were in your pajamas, Christmas pajama pants and one of Andrei’s shirts. “My place tomorrow night?” he questioned as the two of you made your way to your bedroom. You shrugged, it wasn’t that you hated his apartment. His bed was much softer than yours and Andrei had a shorter drive to the rink from his apartment. You just hated being in the apartment without decorations.

“Maybe. Can we get a Christmas tree for your place?”

Andrei thought for a second. “You don’t like staying there? Because no decorations?”

You nodded sheepishly. “I don’t feel like you’re in the holiday spirit! Your apartment is so… what did that tweet say after the Halloween pictures? It feels sterile! Like so clean and no personalization!”

“Clean is good! And I have the picture of us!”

“Just let me decorate?”

He narrowed his eyes at you as you crawled into bed, covering yourself up in the blankets. “No, it’s too late to decorate anyway, not worth it.”

Your mouth gaped. “It’s not too late!”

Andrei always had you check in on his apartment when he was on a roadie. He was gone for practically a week. You unlocked his door, checking in on the apartment he left in perfect condition. Dishes put away, shoes neatly stacked on the rack by the door.

You didn’t mean to buy a lot of decorations, but you were dragging a heavy Christmas tree box up to his apartment with bags full of additional decorations. Oh Andrei was going to kill you when he got home. His apartment was decorated everywhere. You tried to pick up random pieces of tinsel that fell off as you put it up. You cringed after getting glitter on his couch.

Andrei wasn’t expecting you to offer to pick him up from the airport. He typically got a ride with one of the other guys but you had offered to pick him up. You nervously tapped on your steering wheel as Andrei got into the car and greeted you with a hard kiss. You were pretty quiet on the ride to his apartment which he found odd.

“Okay, don’t kill me, but I decorated your apartment.”

Andrei cocked an eyebrow, “You what?”

You sighed, “You always get into a humbug mood! It crushes my holiday spirit! I had to do something about it.”

Andrei entered his apartment behind you. Eyes landing on all the decorations. He barely recognized his own apartment. “If you want, I can take it all down,” you whispered but Andrei pulled you to him. “You did all this for me?”

You nodded, face turning red. He mumbled an ‘I love you’ in his native language before kissing you. “No more humbug?” you pulled away from the kiss. “No humbug.”

#star’s ficmas #andrei svechnikov blurb #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #hockey imagine #nhl imagine

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uluvjay · 6 months

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Christmas tree farm- A. Svechnikov

Andrei Svechnikov x fem! Reader

In which you and svech go to pick a tree but he has a little something more planned..

Warnings?; none really, pure fluff, crying, kisses, a bit rushed sorry

Day 8 of my ficmas celebration!

For as long as you could remember coming to the Christmas tree farm with your family had always been your favorite part of the year, and now you get to do it with your boyfriend Andrei.

For the past four years you two have came to the same farm you went to growing up to pick a tree, you’d find the perfect one and Andrei would chop it down for you.

This year you were picking a tree for your first home together rather than the tiny apartment you two had been living In for the past four years.

“How tall are the ceilings again?” You questioned, turning to Andrei

“Nine feet.” He smiled.

“So we can get a bigger one this year?” You beamed

“Yes, you can get a bigger one.” He laughed as you clapped your hands happily and took off towards the taller trees.

Andrei smiled as he watched your frame get further and further from him, his hand tightly clenching around the velvet box in his pocket.

He eventually found you by the eight footers, hand on your chin as you inspected each one.

“See one you like yet?” He questioned, one of his hands coming to wrap around your waist and pull you into him.

“The one on the far left so far, it’s fluffy and the perfect height I think.” You smiled, leaning into his body.

He inspected the tree that you had mentioned, his eyes examining how it had the same fluff as all your trees previous but was just taller.

“I like it.” He smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, think it’s the one.” He confirmed watching your face as you looked over them all again.

“I think so too.” You smiled.

After chopping the tree down the two of you made your way to the front, netting the tree and putting it on top of his suv before heading back in to get some hot chocolate and walk around the rest of the farm.

“Hey come this way.” Andrei called, his hand wrapping around yours as he lead you to the trees they had lit up for pictures.

“Are you gonna take our picture?” You laughed.

“No I heard they had a photographer here today” he spoke looking around.

“Really? They’ve never had one before.” You spoke a bit confused.

“Maybe it’s new” he smiled and soon a woman approached you two asking if you wanted your pictures done.

“That would be great, thank you.” Andrei spoke as he pulled you into his side and you both began to smile at the camera.

However after the third shot Andrei had pulled away and when you looked over you watched him drop to a knee and pull something from his pocket.

“Wh-what is happening?” You spoke as you felt the tears beginning To fill your waterline.

“Y/n these last five years with you have been absolutely amazing, every year we come here and pick a tree and I want to do that with you forever. I want to walk this farm every year to find you a perfect tree, I want every Christmas with you, and eventually a family of our own. I want you forever, will you marry me?.”

“Yes! God yes” you cried, tackling him into a hug before he could even stand on two feet.

His strong arms wrapped around you tightly, holding on so tight as if you were going to slip away.

“I love you so much.” You spoke as he finally pulled away to slip the beautiful diamond on your left hand.

“I love you more.” He smiled pulling you into a soft kiss.

Cheers from behind you pulled you out of your bubble of bliss, turning around you found your friends and family gathered together. Your parents crying while friends and teammates yelled out congratulations.

Even the ‘photographer’ was behind her camera crying, a big smile on her face as she watched you two.

“You hired a photographer to?” You smiled.

“Had to make it perfect.” He laughed pulling you into another kiss.

“Everything you do is perfect Mr. Svechnikov.” You laughed.

“You’re perfect Mrs. Svechnikov.” He smirked down at you.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov #nhl #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fluff #jay’sficmas

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wyattjohnston · 6 months

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kinda hope they catch us - andrei svechnikov

summary: 3 times the engagement was a secret and 1 time it wasn't.

word count: 1,698

note: this is a fic written for @isconnormcdavidok as part of a server exchange run by @mp0625 💚

It never ceased to amuse Eva that seeing the other WAGs was like seeing a friend you hadn’t seen in months. It had been 2 days since the last home game, and yet it would still be all hugs, kisses and tell me what I’ve missed. Some of them weren’t at the game so Eva could talk about dragging Andrei along to Christmas with her folks, at least. Everyone else would get a somewhat rehearsed story about her plans for starting the New Year off on the right foot.

It was only ever so hard during the holidays when everyone always expected a big, grand tale every time they saw each other.

And only more so of a big deal because she was keeping a secret.

A large secret.

A secret taking up quite a bit of real estate on her left hand.

Eva sighed at the line up of cars in the driveway and on the street outside her parents’ house. She had tried so hard to not be late for once, and she thought she was doing an excellent job.

Andrei assured her that they were, actually, only fifteen minutes late, which was the most on time Eva could ever remember being and her family would hopefully be impressed by that fact.

They made their way to the front door, arms so loaded with presents that she had to awkwardly press her nose to the doorbell because neither of them could free a hand to let themselves in.

A nervous buzz zipped through Eva’s body, her body bursting to tell her family news they’d been waiting to hear for what felt like forever, and she had her mouth open to spill it as soon as the door opened in front of her—except she was grabbed by the arm, her cousin letting out an exasperated “finally”, and hauled into the living room where the entire family was waiting.

Eva looked at Andrei, about to ask him if this was all his doing, to ask if he’d planned this, only to be met with him staring back at her and about to ask the same thing.

There wasn’t any time to work it out between them, though, because Eva’s sister was pulling her husband in front of them all and announcing that she was pregnant. Eva’s left hand got suddenly heavier.

It didn’t matter, though, that it had to put their plans on hold—and there was no question that that had to be the case—Eva used the now empty couches to unload presents from her arms, taking the ones Andrei was carrying.

“We’ll still be engaged tomorrow,” she whispered to him, the pressure of his hand on her upper back settling her.

His laugh was deep but soft when he said, “I know, Zolotse. I know.”

Eva joined the line to celebrate her sister and the pregnancy that she had all but given up on ever happening.

No effort was made throughout lunch to hide the new engagement ring, not intentionally on her part, anyway. Andrei holding hers hand throughout lunch, or when everyone moved back to the couch after, was the norm so nobody thought anything of it. He just so happened to be hiding the news they’d been so eager to share.

Eva always made an effort to watch Andrei’s home games; she’d very much grown to enjoy over the course of their relationship, having met Andrei very early on in his NHL career. There was a nice rotating cast of significant others and kids who appeared at games, too, and Eva’s relationships with them had become some of her most cherished.

“Are you going to take your coat off?” Courtney asked, tugging at material as she passed Eva. “And gloves?”

Eva balled her hands up and then shoved them under her thighs. Her ring caught on the glove which in turn caught on her jeans, but she wasn’t going to let the cold get to her.

“Are you coming down with something?” Gracia asked, concerned enough to put her hand against Eva’s forehead. “It doesn’t feel like you have a fever.”

“I’m just really cold. I haven’t been able to get warm all day.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re twenty-three not eighty-three. Can you start telling us when it’s about to rain?”

Eva rolled her eyes, insisting that she wasn’t sick or old or anything else. She was cold.

There was a period of time before the game started where people were seeming to give her a wide berth; Eva was unsure if it was because they thought her contagious or if she looked generally unhappy about being at the game. And she wasn’t unhappy to be there; she made that very clear when Nykki finally sat next to her.

“Are you sure? You’re a little grumpier than usual.”

“Because nobody will let me be cold!” Eva protested. “I’m just trying to get warm.”

During the first intermission, a blanket from the team store was delivered. It was mortifying.

Andrei, when they were both home after the game, found it amusing at least, when he saw it laid across their bed where she was waiting for him with the covers tucked up under her chin.

The boys were, yet again, off in a road trip. This time, just for one game in Toronto before they flew back for New Years’ Eve. Eva was out to brunch with most of the younger cohort of WAGs, ready to start ringing in the new year even if it was a day early.

Before she left, she’d spoken on the phone with Andrei as he was rushing out the door to get on the bus for practice.

“I think I’m going to take the ring off,” she had said, spinning the ring around her finger as she spoke.

There was a beat, much thicker than Eva had been expecting, before Andrei asked in a thick voice, “You what?”

“Nobody knows yet, right?” she asked, unsure if Andrei had told any of his teammates. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but she would have expected him to tell her. “Taking it off until you get home won’t be a big deal.”

Another beat followed, and Eva was expecting him to tell her that people already knew, that he was nervous to do so. She was opening her mouth to say that she wouldn’t bother if people already knew—because everyone would definitely know before she left for brunch—but Andrei beat her to it, sounding even more dejected.

“Zolotse… You don’t want a ring? You don’t want to be engaged?”

“Oh, god. Andrei. No. That is not what I mean!” Eva said in a rush, her voice becoming more and more high pitched with each word.

“What you mean?”

“If I take it off, we can tell people tomorrow! Together!” she held her left hand to her chest and bit the inside of her cheek as her eyes started to water. “Andrei, baby, I just want to tell people together. That’s all.”

Andrei asked her softly, a couple more times before he had to leave, to promise him she was telling the truth.

It put a bit of a damper on heading out to brunch, because she found that, even though it had been her idea, taking off the ring was a struggle. Still, she put it delicately on her bedside table, and headed out to see her friends.

Hiding the ring was easy when her hand was securely in Andrei’s as they walked into the New Years’ Eve party. She was filled with nervous energy, and even though the ring was hidden she found herself looking at everyone as if they would be able to tell with just one look at her.

Not that they had up to that point.

They weren’t without drinks for very long as someone seemed to have been tasked with holding a tray right near the doors. Eva, without any input from Andrei, led them straight to where Martin and Nykki were standing off to the side—they were the first people they wanted to tell, after all.

There were handshakes and hugs the second Martin and Nykki noticed their arrival.

“Did you find the non-alcoholic wine?” Nykki asked, gesturing to Eva’s champagne flute and earning a furrowed brow in response.

“No? Why would—no, that’s not what I want to talk about. We have something to tell you.”

“I fucking knew it,” Nykki shouted, immediately turning to Martin and excitedly smacking his chest. “I told you she was pregnant?”

Andrei choked on his drink.

“Pregnant?” he asked, hurried and panicked.

“What the fuck?” asked Eva. “Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

“You’re obviously keeping a big secret.” Nykki’s tone was more accusatory than Eva expected. “You’ve been weird since Christmas, and you were really sick at the game on Saturday, and you’re not drinking—”

Eva cut her off to exclaim, “I had three mimosas at brunch yesterday!”

“They weren’t orange juice? What have you been hiding from us then?”

“This fucking dwarf planet I’ve been wearing for a week?” Eva pulled her hand from Andrei’s to hold it out to Nykki and Martin. “That somehow nobody has noticed? It has gravitational pull.”

Nykki grabbed Eva’s hand so rapidly that Eva was startled, but she let Nykki inspect it closely whilst Andrei and Martin had a silent conversation over Nykki’s excited screaming. It drew the attention of everybody nearby.

There was a lengthy conversation once more of the WAGs gathered, how did he do it? When did he do it? Why didn’t you tell us? And Eva had to try and convince them that she hadn’t meant to—aside from the brunch—it had just ended up that way. Not one of them believed her in the moment.

Her hand was being passed around the group, everyone admiring the ring and asking questions Eva didn’t know the answer to, so Eva caught Andrei’s eye here he was holding court with the boys and nearly melted at the softness of his smile. At the pride behind his eyes. At the love that emanated from his entire body.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #canes fic #hockey girlies fic exchange

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heartsandhischier · 2 months

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Face-Off with Reality

andrei svechnikov x female!reader

summary - 1.6k words. Faced with a jeopardised reputation, Andrei is forced into a fake relationship in hopes of restoring his public image

author's note - had this in my notes for a long time, now that i've finally made a blog I can post it. it is part of a series so look out!!

warnings - mentions of alcohol, swearing

The sunlight was relentless, a harshreminder of the world beyond his current misery. Andrei squinted hard, rolling over to escape the invasive beams, only to be greeted by a throbbing headache – a cruel memento from the night before. His mind was a whirlpool of fragmented memories, each recollection a testament to the poor decisions made under the influence of far too many drinks.

What the fuck did I do yesterday?

The question echoed in his pounding head, accompanied by a creeping anxiety that seemed to tighten its grip with each passing second. The sudden, familiar ring of his phone made him jolt, an unwanted intrusion into his attempt to piece together the remnants of last night. With a heavy arm, he reached out, his fingers fumbling for the device. Squinting against the brightness of the screen, he saw the caller ID. It was his manager.

Fuck fuck fuck

Lifting himself with effort, he tried to clear his throat, desperate to sound more put together than he felt. “Hey, Carson. What’s up?” he managed, his voice betraying him with a croak.

There was a pause, then Carson’s voice came through, laced with a professionalism that did little to mask his underlying frustration. “Good morning, Andrei. You had quite a night, didn’t you?” the condescension was palpable, even through the phone.

Andrei winced, the reality of his situation beginning to sink in. “I… uh, it seems so,” he admitted, his mind racing to recall what had happened.

Carson sighed, “Andrei, your antics last night have made their way to the press. It’s not looking good. We need to address this immediately.”

A sinking feeling settled in Andrei’s stomach, the weight of his actions becoming increasingly clear. “What to we do?” he asked, a sense of desperation creeping into his tone.

“We’re scheduling a PR meeting first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll discuss your options and strategise on how to mitigate this. Damage control is our top priority now,” Carson explained, his tone shifting to one of calculated calmness.

Andrei nodded to himself, “I understand. I’ll be there. Carson. I… I’m sorry for the trouble.”

Carson paused again, this time the silence speaking volumes. “We’ll fix this, Andrei. But I need you to be fully on board. This isnt just about apologising; its about showing that you’re taking steps to change.”

“Understood,” Andrei replied. As he hung up, the reality of his situation settled heavily upon him.

Andrei’s heart pounded with a mixture of anxiety and reluctance as he took a deep, steadying breath, adjusting his shirt in an attempt to appear more composed than he felt. The meeting room loomed ahead, a threshold to a discussion that would undoubtedly shape the immediate future of his public life. Pushing the door open, he was met with an unexpected sight.

Carson, his manager, was not alone. Accompanying him were two individuals, one was a man clad in a sharp suit, exuding an aura of professionalism that was almost intimidating. The other – a face Andrei recognised instantly despise never having met her personally. Y/N, the renowned country singer from North Caroline, whose songs had become anthems in their own right. She was the embodiment of southern charm, dressed in a floral sundress that danced around her knees, cowboy boots tapping softly on the floor, her hair styled perfectly to frame her face. Her image was pristine, unblemished by scandal, a stark contrast to the storm currently surrounding Andrei.

Approachingthem, Andrei managed a polite facade, extending handshakes to the unfamiliar man and then to Y/N. Her handshake was gentle, her skin soft against his, her gaze warm yet tinged with a discernible edge of condescension.

Taking a seat next to Carson, Andrei braced himself for what was to come.

“We’ve come to a conclusion,” Carson began, his eyes shifting between Andrei and Y/N. the room felt charged with an unspoken tension as he laid out the terms of carefully constructed narrative – a fake relationship designed to salvage Andrei’s faltering public image by associating it with Y/N’s positively radiant one. It was a plan born out of desperation, a strategy neither Andrei nor Y/N seemed particularly enthused about.

The details of the arrangement were laid out with clinical precision, each clause and condition designed to weave a believable story of romance blossoming between the troubled hockey player and the beloved country singer. Andrei felt a knot form in his stomach, a mix of regret and reluctance. Glancing at Y/N, he saw a similar sentiment reflected in her eyes—this was a partnership neither of them had wanted.

As the meeting concluded, Y/N's frustration was palpable. She rose swiftly, her movements brisk and determined as she made her way out of the room. Andrei, sensing the delicacy of the moment, hastened after her, catching up just in time.

"Y/N, wait," he called out, his voice carrying a hint of desperation. "We should... we should talk about this. Arrange that meeting our agents suggested."

She paused, turning to face him with a look that managed to be both resigned and defiant. "Fine," she conceded, her voice steady but cool. "My apartment, tomorrow evening. Don't be late."

And then she was gone, leaving Andrei in the quiet aftermath, pondering the surreal turn his life had taken. This arrangement, while distasteful, was his path to redemption, and it hinged entirely on the cooperation between two virtual strangers. Tomorrow evening would mark the beginning of a challenging charade, one that required all the fortitude he could muster.

The hockey player, despite his reservations, found himself standing before Y/N’s apartment the next evening. A modest yet chic dwelling in one of the city’s more understated upscale neighborhoods.

He knocked, the sound echoing in the silent hallway, a reminder of the awkwardness that awaited. The door swung open, revealing Y/N, her expression mirroring the reluctance he felt. She was dressed in comfortable ruffled shorts paired with a simple singlet, her feet enveloped in a cozy pair of slippers. She stepped aside, granting him entry without a word, their mutual reticence hanging in the air.

As he stepped inside, his gaze swept over her living space, a reflection of her personality in ways he hadn’t anticipated. The open-plan layout was bathed in natural light, the walls adorned with abstract art and vintage concert posters, each piece seemingly chosen with care. A plush couch invited stood in the middle of the space, facing a bookshelf laden with a diverse collection of literature, the titles offering a glimpse into her interests and perhaps, her soul.

The space was lived in, personal items and trinkets scattered in a manner that suggested comfort and authenticity. It was a stark contract to his own minimalist, almost sterile apartment.

Y/N motioned towards the sitting area, “Might as well get this over with,” she said, her voice carried a blend of resignatio and a trace of defiance.

Andrei nodded, as he settled onto the couch she offered him a cup of tea which he accepted. A small gesture of hopsitality in the otherwise charged atmosphere. She returned to the seating area, cups in hand, placing one of them on the coffee table in front of Andrei. She sat down at the other end of the couch, maintaining a physical gap that mirrored the emotional distance between them.

It was he who broke the silence, his voice hesitant but compelled by the unexpected realisation that perhaps, beneath the resentment, there was a person worth knowing. “Your place… it says a lot about you,” he started, unsure of where he was going with this.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her initial defensiveness softening into intrigue. “And what does it say exactly? She inquired, her tone laced with both challenge and curiosity.

“That you’re more than the image the media paints of you. There’s depth, interests… life beyond the headlines,” he admitted, his own surprise at the words coming out of his mouth.

Her reaction was a pause, a moment of contemplation as she stirred her tea, the soft clinking of the spoon against the cup a punctuation in their dialogue. “Let’s be clear,” she started, her voice firm yet not unkind, “It’s your image that’s in dire need of repair, not mine. I’m here because I was told this could somehow benefit us both. But make no mistake, we’re not friends, this is strictly professional.”

Her words, though spoken with a certain diplomatic coldness, stung with the truth. andrei felt a twinge of annoyance prick at his pride, the implication that he was the sole cause of their shared inconvenience. “So, what? You’re just here to play the gracious benefactor in this little scheme?” he retorted, his tone edged with irritation. “Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor.”

Y/N's response was measured, but her patience was visibly thinning. "I'm not claiming to be a saint, Andrei. But let's not pretend that our situations are equivalent. I'm here, yes, but it's your actions, your choices that led us here. So, if this is going to work, if we're going to sell this lie, you need to step up. I won't have my reputation tarnished because you can't keep your end of the bargain."

Their shared gaze was a battleground, devoid of warmth, brimming with mutual resentment. The tension, already thick, was momentarily disrupted by the simultaneous pings of their phones. They reached for their devices in unison, reading the text about their first public appearance together at the Carolina Hurricanes’ first playoff game – an event neither was particularly enthused about.

Y/N’s sighed, “Great, now I have to pretend to enjoy hours of a sport I know nothing about.”

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov fanfiction #carolina hurricanes fanfic #carolina hurricanes fanfiction #andrei svechnikov x y/n #canes fanfic #canes fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #hockey fic #hockey fanfic

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 6 months

Text

a/n: merry christmas eve and happy sunday! the promised andrei christmas fic (written extremely fast and edited even faster lol) title is from cher’s new christmas song which is a bop and a half so i suggest listening. going to be quiet the rest of the year to stockpile some writing, but happy new year everyone, i’ve been beyond grateful for the love my fics have gotten this year 😘

word count: 3.9k

tw: minimal smut, unprotected sex, brief fingering

summary: christmas eve at the svechnikov house is a chaotic but fun affair

“Mama?”

“Yes, my love?” You look up from the bowl of cookie dough batter. Evie was supposed to be helping after waking up at the ass crack of dawn, but the lure of rearranging all the decorations on the small tree in her room was more appealing. Your little perfectionist oldest daughter had shifted ornaments no less than fifteen times since you’d put the decorations up right after Thanksgiving.

Alina hops from foot to foot and you don’t necessarily love the sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “I catch Santa!”

You squint at her. “You’re catching Santa? Santa’s not a lizard in the backyard,” you say gently.

“I catch Santa,” Alina repeats. “Tonight! With presents!”

It clicks in your head - she means that she wants to stay up late and catch Santa leaving presents - and you laugh. “Oh, baby, you can’t stay up to see Santa, otherwise he doesn’t leave presents, remember?” You set the bowl of dough aside and scoop Alina up into your arms, sitting her down on the counter. She pouts at you, chubby little fingers reaching to play with the strings on your hoodie.

“Wanna see Santa,” she huffs. Her little pout is identical to Andrei’s and it makes you smile. You love seeing your husband’s traits and mannerisms in your girls.

You lean in to whisper conspiratorially, “guess what? Someone better than Santa is coming in a little bit.”

“Who?” Alina perks up, eyes going wide as she bounces a little. “Mickey Mouse?”

Another laugh bursts out of your mouth and Alina giggles with you, always ready to laugh with whoever’s around. “No, not Mickey Mouse,” you giggle, tickling her sides lightly and enjoying her childish laughter. “Babushka and dedushka!”

Alina shrieks happily and you catch her when she launches herself forward off the counter. The kids love when Elena and Igor come to visit and they don’t know that this trip will be extra long, as they’re staying for nearly three weeks. Once Andrei finishes his workout, he’s supposed to be going off to pick them up from the airport.

“Bring puppy?” She asks, little arms locked around your neck and wide awake considering it’s not even seven in the morning.

“No,” you shake your head, “they’re not bringing the puppy. He has to stay home where he has his bed and all his toys.”

That would be the last thing you need in the house - in-laws, three kids, a husband who’s traveling several days a week, and to add a dog on top of that? No, thank you.

“I share my toys,” she says sweetly.

You press a kiss to her cheek. “Yeah, you do share your toys with Evie and Kira. But puppy toys are different. Why don’t you go draw a picture to give Babushka when she gets here?”

Alina nods wildly and wiggles her way out of your arms and down your body before running off to the kid sized table you have set up in the den with all their craft supplies. She’ll be distracted for at least ten minutes, which gives you enough time to get the cookies on a baking tray and in the oven. Why you waited until Christmas Eve morning to make the cookies for Santa is a question for another day.

You’ve been awake since 4:30 already and your energy is starting to flag, so you make a quick mug of coffee before portioning out the sugar cookies and dipping them in the green and red sugar sprinkles. While you sip at the drink and finish the cookies with your other hand, your mind wanders to everything that has to get done today. There are a few more gifts that have to be wrapped, but for the most part you’d managed to get everything you and Andrei bought for the kids and his parents wrapped at night. You’d also wrapped all the gifts Elena and Igor had bought for the girls and had shipped directly to your house.

Dinner tonight is going to be chill and Elena had insisted on handling most of that, so you don’t worry too much about the menu. You’ll be helping her, since most of the recipes are from your childhood, but she loves cooking when she visits so you don’t mind letting her.

You decide that you’ll have Andrei take all three girls with him to the airport so you can have a minute to shower - hair wash and shaving included - without little hands knocking on the bathroom door.

Otherwise, you have to iron the girls’ outfits and tidy up the chaos before the girls hopefully go to sleep early so you and Andrei can set out the presents.

“Thinking hard?” Andrei’s teasing voice startles you out of your mental to-do list. You turn away from the counter and take him in with a smile. He’s sweaty from his workout, hair falling over his forehead that he swipes back with his free hand. Kira is on his hip, a giant four-toothed smile on her face. You nudge at her round cheeks with your knuckles, grinning back at her.

“Were you Papa’s workout buddy?” You ask her in a bubbly voice. “How’d he do?”

“Papa!” She yelps, smacking at Andrei’s chest with her hands and cuddling closer to his side. She plants a smacking kiss against his cheek, her favorite party trick to get adults coping over how cute she is.

Andrei kisses the top of her head and rests his cheek against the crown. “She’s a good cheerleader,” he laughs. And as if they practiced it, Kira waves her hands in an imitation of jazz hands. You laugh and kiss your youngest on the tip of her nose, making her giggle.

“Give me the baby and go shower,” you say, already taking Kira into your arms. She transfers easily, snuggling into your neck, one hand splayed over your chest. “I need you to take all three with you to the airport and you’re going to need to get going if you want to get your parents on time.”

He looks at the clock over the stove and frowns a little. “They don’t land until 9:30, plenty of time.”

“Yeah,” you nod, untangling your hair from Kira’s grip, “but you have to shower, the girls have to be changed and put in the car, and you have to drive to the airport. Time goes faster than you think, please just get everything going?”

Andrei nods and grips your chin in his hand to tilt your face up for a kiss. You melt a little, humming quietly. “Okay, solnyshka. We will go when everyone is ready. Do I need to pick anything else up?” He asks, tickling Kira’s back.

You shake your head, “just your parents. Next year they’re coming here earlier. None of this flying on Christmas Eve business.”

“I will tell them,” Andrei laughs before heading upstairs to shower.

Four hours later, after you’ve finished taking the cookies out of the oven, showered, and pulled together a quick little breakfast spread, Andrei’s car pulls back into the driveway. You pull open the front door with a huge smile on your face, laughing when Elena’s dragged into the house by Evie and Alina, Kira held on her grandmother’s hip. Andrei and Igor are back at the car, handling all the bags.

“Moya devushka,” Elena greets you with a warm smile and a tight hug, Kira squeaking and complaining when she’s caught in the middle of the two of you. “Ah, prosti, myshonok.” She kisses Kira’s head.

“Mama!” Evie dances at your feet, tugging on your sweater. “Babushka said she’s staying forever!”

“Mid-January, at least,” Elena shares a smile with you, helping you usher the girls inside. Kira clings to her like a koala and you love how much the girls love their grandparents.

Evie widens her eyes - Andrei’s eyes - at her grandmother, “that’s like forever! And look,” she grabs Elena’s hand, pulling her to the living room, “r’member we showded you our tree on the phone? Now you can see in real!” Alina trails along after them, clutching the stuffed Grinch that she’d recently decided was her new best friend.

Confident that the girls are handled, you head back outside to help Andrei and Igor with the bags. Your father-in-law greets you with a kiss to the cheek and waves off your help, “you have strong men. Go with Elena and girls.”

You know from past experience that it’s basically useless to fight with him, so you grab up Elena’s oversized purse from the backseat of the car and run back inside with it, wearing a sneaky little smile, before Igor can chastise you. Andrei’s laughter follows you inside.

“Elena,” you call out, “do you want your purse or should I put it in your room?”

“Oh! Bring it here,” Elena looks over her shoulder at you from where she’s sitting on the ottoman, having been oohing and ahhing over the drawings the girls made for her. “I have surprises.”

You hand over the bag, talking over the girls’ excited squeals, “you shouldn’t have. It’s Christmas Eve.”

Elena waves a hand in the air at you and if it were anyone else, you’d be annoyed at the dismissive gesture. “Small things,” she explains, reaching into the bag and drawing out little toys and Russian candies for the girls. “These were your Papa’s favorite,” she explains, handing Evie a wrapped chocolate.

Andrei appears behind you and leans forward, snatching another candy out of his mother’s hand. “Still are,” he winks at the girls. He unwraps the chocolate and pops it in his mouth before giving you a quick kiss. “I’m going to clean out the car,” he gives Kira a faux-glare, “one of the myshonok spilled her Cheerios.”

“It was Kira,” Evie pipes up, chocolate smeared around her mouth. “She spilleded out the whole bag!”

Kira, recognizing her name, giggles and chants, “Mama! Papa!”

“Our messy little girl,” you ruffle her hair gently. “Not too much candy, okay? It’s still really early.”

You know you’re going to be ignored, but you have to say it if only to stave off the mom-guilt. With the girls distracted by their grandparents - Igor’s wandered in and is telling Alina a joke she surely doesn’t understand yet - and Andrei busy with the car outside, you take the opportunity to slip upstairs and finish wrapping the few gifts that had been delivered in the last few days.

When you come back downstairs after finishing up and taking a few extra minutes to just breathe in the relative quiet, everyone’s huddled around Elena’s phone FaceTiming with Geno and his family. Everyone chatting in rapid fire Russian, even your kids, and you smile. You love that the girls are fluent in Andrei’s native language and it’s good practice when they talk to his family. The girls giggle with their cousins and you pull out your phone to snap a candid shot before joining the call, waving to Geno and his wife.

You stand behind the couch, looping your arms around Andrei’s neck and resting your chin on his shoulder, just enjoying the lively conversation. You’ve learned some Russian over the years, but you’re nowhere close to fluent and once they all start talking so fast, you’re basically lost at sea.

Andrei leans his cheek against yours, holding out his hand while he talks to block Evie’s foot from hitting him in her attempt at showing off a cartwheel. She pouts at Andrei when he tells her to sit down - that you understand, at least - and Andrei huffs in exasperation when Elena turns right around and clearly reprimands him for stopping Evie. Your head is starting to swim a little from all the noise and you press a kiss to Andrei’s cheek before standing up and heading into the kitchen.

A dog barking joins the chaos and you know Geno’s brought Igor’s dog on the screen. The girls squeal with delight and you know this means you’re going to get a barrage of begging for a puppy.

“Mama,” Evie skips her way into the kitchen, “can we show Babu and Dedu Belle’s christmas?”

The call with Geno is either done or the girls had gotten bored of sitting in one place. You nod, knowing she means the Beauty and the Beast Christmas movie, and say, “sure, bunny. Ask Papa to put the movie on the TV.”

The movie keeps them occupied for a little bit, even after Elena leaves to come help you in the kitchen. You work quietly with your mother-in-law, chatting easily about the girls and the plans for their extended trip. You’ll have a more involved celebration on January 7th - when Christmas is traditionally celebrated in Russia - with Elena making dishes that Andrei remembers from his childhood. But with the girls being raised in America, it’s easier for them to have Christmas traditions in line with their classmates and friends.

You’re incorporating some of your holiday traditions - namely the relaxing aspects of the day, watching movies and spending time with the kids - and it’s nice to not have to worry about going super over the top. Tomorrow, Andrei and his dad will grill steaks and you’re making a few side dishes and Evie helped make some cookies during the week. More than anything, you’re just excited to see them get into Christmas and to make memories with them.

The girls go down for their naps and you and Elena get to finish prepping dinner. It’s a quiet rest of the day, until suddenly it’s after dinner and the girls are bathed and changed into their matching pajamas - little candy canes printed on a white background - and Alina’s chattering about catching Santa.

“Where did she even come up with that?” You ask Andrei, laughing a little. “She said it this morning too.”

“Ah,” he gives you a sheepish smile and you’re instantly on guard, “maybe I said something. They asked about Santa and magic.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how to explain so I said to stay up and see how he does it.”

You snort a laugh, filling Kira’s bottle and closing the lid. “Yeah, that’ll do it. Better hope she knocks out like usual or we’re going to have a long night.”

Andrei settles his hands on your hips and pulls you close, kissing you gently. “I think there was enough excitement today. They will sleep, solnyshka, don’t worry.”

Resting against his chest, you loop your arms around his lower back, excitement bubbles up in your chest for the girls to see their gifts. “I know I’ve said it before,” you mumble into his chest, “but thank you for agreeing to do two Christmases.”

“Anything for you, solnyshka,” he replies, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. And then you’re interrupted by the two older girls, running in and begging to set out the cookies for Santa. Andrei lets you go and lifts both girls up onto his hips, telling them, “make sure you pick good cookies. I think he likes ones with a lot of sprinkles.”

He winks at you over the girls’ heads and you suppress a little smile while you put the cookies the girls select on a special plate. The plate of cookies is carefully arranged on the coffee table, next to a glass of milk that Evie had very carefully carried from the kitchen.

“Can we watch Frosty, Mama?” Evie asks, giving you puppy eyes. She’s already tucked up on the couch in between her grandparents, one little hand wrapped around Elena’s forearm and the other clutching her Stormy plush - this version has a little Christmas sweater on and you’d tried to resist buying it but you’re weak when it comes to saying no sometimes. Alina’s already looking like she’ll pass out any second, head resting on Igor’s chest. Andrei has Kira in his arms, rocking from side to side so she’ll fall asleep.

“Okay,” you nod, “but as soon as Frosty’s over, it’s time for bed. Remember, Santa doesn’t come if you’re awake.”

Behind you, Andrei snorts a quiet little laugh and you know exactly why, but you refuse to dignify him with a response. You press your lips together to smother a laugh of your own.

“I’m not gonna sleep,” Evie informs you, apparently on Alina’s side with wanting to catch Santa. “I’m not even sleepy, Mama.”

Her sentence is punctuated by a huge yawn and you catch Elena’s eye, both of you muffling laughter.

“It would not be so bad,” Elena says, stroking Evie’s braided hair, “to close your eyes a little, zaychik.”

Evie wrinkles her nose and shakes her head, but you’re not surprised when all three girls and both grandparents are all passed out before Frosty even gets on the train to the North Pole. Andrei’s already brought Kira up to her crib and now he helps you bring up the older girls, lifting their combined weight easily into his arms while you wake up Elena and Igor.

“Jet lag,” they both laugh tiredly, Elena giving you and Andrei kisses on the cheek before retiring to their room. Igor offers to help bring the gifts down to the tree, but Andrei says something in Russian and his father nods, closing the door behind him.

You leave the doors to the girls’ bedrooms cracked a little, hoping you’ll hear them in case they get up. Tossing Andrei a Santa hat you’ve kept around just for this moment, you grin, “let’s get this done, Saint Nick.”

Andrei jams the hat on his head and gives you a crooked smirk. “Red is my color, solnyshka,” he teases and swats at your ass gently when he follows you to the second guest room that’s been serving as your gift and wrapping room.

Between the two of you, all the gifts are brought downstairs in less than an hour. Andrei likes to deposit the boxes randomly, leaving the huge box that you know is a Barbie Dream House for the girls to share right in the middle of everything. You shake your head and move it towards the back, making sure the presents are arranged nicely and there’s room to walk around all the furniture. You spot a handful of gifts labeled in Andrei’s messy scrawl and it makes you smile.

“Last one,” he says, setting a smaller box on top of the rest. “Time for bed?”

You survey the scene, skipping over the gifts and landing on the plate of cookies. “Oops, no! We almost forgot the cookies, take a bite out of one or two,” you suggest, knowing his massive sweet tooth. Andrei bites off half of a tree shaped cookie and holds out a second to you for you to bite.

A yawn escapes as you’re chewing and you cover your mouth immediately, mumbling an apology. Andrei scoffs and rests his hand on your lower back to guide you up the stairs, “let me take my zhena up to bed.” His voice is low and deep, warm despite the tiredness lacing his tone. The Santa hat is crooked on his head and it makes him look boyishly handsome. You recognize the look in his eyes and you add a little sway to your hips on your way back to your bedroom.

“Your parents are right down the hall,” you say quietly, even as you pull your pajama top over your head and push your pants and underwear to the floor.

Andrei raises an eyebrow at you, hungrily taking in the sight of your bare body. Your nipples tighten under his scrutiny and you feel a rush of warmth between your legs. He steps forward, crowding you until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fall back, landing flat on the mattress with your legs splayed open. He leans one knee in between your legs and covers your body with his to kiss you deeply, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You moan softly when he pulls back, one of his hands sliding up your side, over your chest, to rest at the base of your throat, “guess you’ll have to be quiet, solnyshka. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, hooking your ankle around Andrei’s hip and pushing at the waistband of his joggers. “Get rid of these,” you demand and Andrei kisses you again before standing up and stripping, his clothes discarded to the floor in seconds.

“Remember,” Andrei grins, running his fingers over your sensitive clit, making your back arch off the bed and a sharp gasp escape your lips, “quiet.”

You bite down hard on your lower lip to prevent any noise from escaping as Andrei pumps his fingers inside of you, curling and flexing them until you’re dripping down the curve of your ass. “Andrei!” You can’t help but moan his name when his fingers press up against your g-spot.

“Ah,” he tuts, pulling his fingers from your cunt and covering your mouth with his palm. “Quiet.”

With his hand muffling your noises, Andrei kneels between your open legs, lining up his cock at your entrance and sliding into you with one smooth thrust. You whine behind his hand, clenching immediately around his length, legs coming up to wrap around his waist. Sparks dance behind your eyes, pleasure building low in your stomach.

Andrei fucks into you with a steady rhythm, his hand warm over your face. You roll your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust and before you realize it, your orgasm is building and cresting, flooding your veins with fire. You bite down on Andrei’s palm and he hisses, finishing inside of you with a few more thrusts.

Everything is hazy and sticky and you blink up at Andrei, trying to focus on something other than the selfish desire for a second orgasm. Andrei’s hand shifts from your mouth to cup your cheek. His eyes twinkle with mischievous glee and you brace yourself for whatever he’s about to say.

“Santa was not the only one coming tonight, huh?”

“Oh my god,” you burst out laughing, push at his chest, “I hate you.”

Andrei kisses you sweetly, laughing too. “Sorry, that was bad,” he climbs off the bed, pulling you to your feet so you can both shower quickly and he can change the sheets before you go to bed.

It feels like you’ve only gotten ten minutes of sleep - thanks to a pair of wandering hands on your husband - when your bedroom door bangs open and Evie’s screaming, “SANTA BROUGHT PRESENTS!” She jumps onto your bed, bouncing on her knees in between you and Andrei, shrieking with delight. Andrei catches her around the waist and pulls her into a big hug.

“You’re going to wake the whole house, zaychik,” he teases, giving you a sleepy smile over her head.

“Everyone’s awake! Babu’s makin’ coffee and she said I had to wait five whole minutes before I woke you and Mama,” Evie informs him. “Can we pleaseeeee go open presents now?” She throws her arms around Andrei’s neck and pokes her lip out in a pout until he nods and she scrambles off the bed, racing for the stairs and screeching, “Papa said we can open!”

You yawn and slump against Andrei’s side, grinning tiredly, “I wish we could bottle her energy.”

“I will work on it for your birthday,” Andrei teases, kissing you warmly. “Merry Christmas, solnyshka.”

“Merry Christ—“

“MAMA! PAPA! PRESENTS!”

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov fic #nhl fic #andrei svechnikov imagine

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pennylanefics · 13 days

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Potted Plant - Andrei Svechnikov

a/n: i have been trying my hardest to keep this energy up and get these out as much as i can :) i hit a small wall with svechy's but i finally got this one finished :) two more fics for him to go!

summary: andrei wants to make his home feel a little more welcoming for you after he asks you to move in with him

word count: ~1.8k

“I was thinking about something,” Andrei’s voice fills the otherwise quiet room. It was late in the evening and the two of you were relaxing in bed, Andrei’s arms around you as he read a book and you were curled up in his chest, playing a game on your phone.

“About what?” You lock your phone and look up at him, your chin resting on his torso. His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and grins.

“Do you want to move in with me?” He asks, his tone soft and evident of hesitancy, worried about rejection. Your eyes widen a little and your body freezes.

“Move in…here?” Andrei nods and hums quietly, cradling your cheek in his touch.

“Yeah. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? I mean, you are over here all the time, so it wouldn’t be a big difference, you know?” He comments. “We’d just make it official, and you could move all your stuff over here.”

You think about it for a moment, and he did have a point. You spent a lot of time at his place, way more than you were at your apartment, and it was perfect timing, since your lease was ending soon, you could just let your landlord know that you won’t be returning.

Sure, it wasn’t a safe option, in case something were to happen with you and Andrei, but you chose not to think about that right now, leading to you answering your boyfriend with a nod of your head.

“It would be nice. I will move in with you,” you smile widely up at him. His cheeks redden at your answer and he lets out a big, relieved sigh, pulling you up by your hips so that your face was so close to his, where he could kiss you with ease. His lips press against yours, his laugh eventually breaking it.

“Oh I am so happy,” he sighs, kissing you over and over, then moving on to place little kisses all over your face, eliciting a giggle from you.

“Me too. It’ll be nice to officially move in, so I hope you aren’t going to get tired of me,” you tease him, laying back down against his chest, trailing your finger around the soft, grey fabric of his shirt.

“I could never get tired of you, sweetheart,” he whispers.

In the days following, Andrei helps you pack everything up in your apartment, specifically your clothes, toiletries, and all of your personal items. It was easier to just bring everything, since you had no intention of coming back to the place, and it was better to take it all in one go than make multiple trips for small stuff.

Andrei takes all of the boxes and bags to his car while you take one last stroll through the apartment, making sure you didn’t forget anything. You were also taking the rest of the food that was in your fridge and cabinets, even though Andrei had plenty of food at his place, it was better than just throwing it to waste.

“Everything gone?” He wonders, walking back inside the almost empty space. All of your furniture was still there, which would be a task for another day, you’d most likely move it into a storage unit, or Andrei would find a place for it in his house.

“I think so,” you murmur, curling into his side as he steps over to where you stand. His arms circle around your shoulders, swaying you side to side a little.

“Bittersweet, isn’t it?” He whispers, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “Remember the first night I stayed here with you?”

“I do,” you laugh quietly, remembering the night, “ you fell asleep on the couch accidentally and you woke up aching because you barely fit.”

“And how you refused to let me drive home so you forced me to stay.”

“Hey, I did not force you. I was protecting you, you were half asleep, there was no way you could have driven home.”

“I was fine, baby. You were being overdramatic,” he teases, tapping your bottom playfully. You pull away from him and smack his chest in retaliation.

“Oh sure, because a 6’2 man leaning against his much shorter girlfriend to simply walk to the bedroom is fine and not tired at all.” He laughs and shakes his head, finally admitting defeat.

“So, are we ready to go?” He changes the topic, nodding his head towards the door.

“Yeah, let’s head out.” You take one final look at the place you called your first home and walk out shortly after, your hand in Andrei’s, heading back to his place, or rather, your new home with him.

It took a couple days to unpack all of the boxes and find a place for them, so much that you ended up keeping a majority of things in a box in the office closet, mainly pictures and trinkets that you couldn’t bear to part with for the time being, but had no space to display the things.

Andrei assured you that nothing would be given away or sold, and that if you are to move into a different house together, they would come with and he would make a space for it all.

Andrei was very understanding and sweet through all of this. He could tell that even though you were excited and looking forward to this new chapter together, you were still quite anxious and nervous about if things would change.

He gave you all the space he needed during this time, either taking a run or working out in the backyard while you organized your clothes or sifted through toiletries. He knew he needed to do something, so he went online while you cooked dinner for the two of you, needing to find a local store that sells shelving units.

“You want to go shopping tomorrow?” He asks once you both have your food plated and are sat on the couch to watch a movie while you eat.

“Sure. What for?” Andrei picks at his food a little, hesitant to bring the topic up.

“To look for some things that would make here feel a little more…like home, for you,” he says, avoiding eye contact for a moment. He finally looks over at you when you don’t respond, he sees a thoughtful look in your eyes.

“It does feel like home,” you lie through your teeth. But Andrei isn’t having it. He shakes his head at you and swallows his bite of food.

“Baby, I can tell you don’t think that. As much as you are wanting to live with me, I can tell you feel like something is missing. So I want to make this feel like your place as well, instead of like you are moving in to my house. I mean, you are, but this is our house now, and you should feel happy with it, too.”

You don’t say anything, your mouth falling open slightly, Andrei stunning you with his words and how well he could read you. A thankful smile stretches at the corners of your lips and you nod, reaching for his hand.

“Thank you,” you whisper, a hint of relief in your voice. Andrei smiles back and squeezes your hand.

“Anything for you,” he whispers back.

The following day, Andrei takes you into town, a couple stores on his mind that he thought would be best for finding things. The first stop was an office supply store and after some looking around, you found a nice mahogany shelf that would look so perfect in the office, since it was quite empty in there right now, as he didn’t use it much; he was more than okay with you taking over that space.

After having the box loaded into your Jeep, you head to the hardware store, another one of Andrei’s ideas.

“What do we need here?”

“I figured we could look at paint colors for the bedroom or the office,” he says, a blush covering his cheeks. “And I thought we could also get a few plants as well.”

So, that’s exactly what you do. After a lot of deliberation, you choose a new color for the office, not wanting to change his bedroom walls since it felt perfect to you, before you move onto the gardening section, browsing through all of the flowers and plants.

Fifteen minutes pass before you finally decide on a monstera plant, a couple small succulents, and a growing pothos with some long vines for the living room. With one last trip to Home Goods for some simple decorations, you are finally ready to head back and get to work, or at least start with some things.

Painting would be for tomorrow, so first, you decided to put the bookshelf together in the room, and just leave it in the middle of the space while you paint the walls around. It took some time and frustration to put together, something that comes with every piece of furniture ever, but thankfully, only an hour later, it was fully set up and tightened really well.

“You want me to start taping the ceiling and you can do the floors?” Andrei sighs heavily as he wipes the sweat off his forehead. He grabs a large roll of clear packing tage and hands it to you.

“I think I’m going to order some takeout for dinner first,” you say, flopping on your back to cool off some. Andrei leans over you and can’t help but meet your face with his, giving you a light kiss.

“Sounds good. Could you order my usual?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” You step out of the room and call your favorite Chinese takeout restaurant, and because you guys eat there so much, the lady answering the phone remembers your order by heart now, so she writes it down and hands it off with ease, wishing you well before hanging the phone up.

“That was quick,” Andrei comments when you return only a couple minutes later.

“The lady remembered our order,” you laugh softly, reaching for the tape to start laying some down on the carpet.

Andrei gets up on a step stool to reach the ceiling, and the music coming from your playlist continues on, neither of you saying much. But once everything is taped and you lay some old curtain linings down to shield the carpet from any splashes of paint, Andrei wraps you in his arms tightly.

“I love you,” he whispers. “And I hope this helps you feel a little more welcome and at home here.”

“It already has,” you mumble into his chest. “And thanks again for everything. I really can’t wait to spend our lives together.”

“Wherever it may be, my darling, I will always be by your side.”

taglist: @petite-potato4

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov fanfic #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes fanfic #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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comphy-and-cozy · 11 months

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Every Summer Has a Story - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)

Summary: When you find yourself on vacation with an ex-fling that barely had time to get off the ground before disaster struck, you might find you're in more than you bargained for. An exes/enemies to lovers (ish) fic.

Word Count: 11.5K

Author's Notes: Written for @yuukiyu for @wyattjohnston's Summer Fic Exchange! I had a blast writing this and really channeling my own version of a Tessa Bailey-esque romance novel. S/O to @smileysvech for helping to brainstorm and to @cellythefloshie for beta'ing! Love and appreciate you both so much. Enjoy!

Warnings: Language, alcohol use/mention, smut (18+ ONLY), oral sex (f receiving), angst, fluff, there's only one bed!, wingman!Marty, shit communication skills, scruffy and sweet Andrei.

NHL Masterlist / Moodboard

Red pinpricks shone in the dark, glaring in the silence: 2:49am. The house was quiet, all its inhabitants sound asleep, dreaming peacefully. Except for you.

With a huff, you cast a glance at the figure on the other side of the bed, mustering the dirtiest glare you could as you heaved the blankets back in your direction, a task that proved impossible due to the death grip your bedmate had on the sheets.

Six months ago, if you’d have told yourself that you’d be in bed with Andrei Svechnikov and hating it, you would’ve laughed until you cried. But unfortunately, you weren’t laughing. Instead, you were left wondering how the hell you ended up in this situation and asking the higher powers what you did to deserve this special form of hell.

As you contemplated your predicament, your mind wandered back to the beginning of the Russian’s saga, thinking back to the first time you heard his name.

“I wasn’t aware this was going to be an ambush.”

Guilt washed over Marty’s face, while Nykki just burst into laughter. “It’s not an ambush, you drama queen. It’s an opportunity.”

“An opportunity? You mean an opportunity to get my heart crushed by some playboy millionaire jock—no offense, Marty—when he inevitably sends the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ text three months down the road?”

Nykki scoffed, while Marty raised his eyes in surprise, an amused smile curling at his lips.

“Come on, you know I have a point!” you said, waving your hands emphatically. “Tell me I’m wrong. Go on, tell me that 98% of hockey players aren’t trash human beings.”

Opening her mouth to argue, Nykki paused, then sat back to look at her boyfriend, who thought through his words carefully.

“There are a lot of bad eggs,” he said, “some of them my own teammates.”

Your eyebrows raised, hand outstretched as if to say, ‘I told you so.’ But then Marty continued.

“But not Andrei Svechnikov.”

Admittedly, when Nykki invited you over with the promise of a ‘proposition,’ you had an inkling that it would involve some devious scheme to get you on a double date with one of Marty’s teammates. The excitement in her eye when you were at her apartment for a girl’s night—a bottle of Cabernet deep, wistfully imagining having a close friend in her journey as the girlfriend of a professional athlete—was a little too earnest to be just a passing fantasy.

“He’s a really nice guy. He’s so genuine… and kind. I really think he’d be good for you.”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you opt to play nice for a moment. “And why is that, Nečas?”

“Because even though he’s a ‘playboy’,” he exaggerated the air quotes with his fingers, “he came from nothing, so he knows the value of appreciating what he has and what he’s worked for. He’s the hardest working guy I know, without question.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I just know he’d be the sweetest boyfriend,” Nykki chimed in, ignoring the glare you sent in her direction, irritated that she was teaming up against you. “He’s so sweet to everyone. He just hasn’t found the right person yet.”

“Maybe that’s because he’s busy sticking his dick in everything that walks,” you said sarcastically.

“The guy’s 22 years old,” Marty said, and although your mouth was already open to retort, you fell silent. “And he’s making more money than he ever dreamt about as a kid. He’s young, single, and successful—of course he’s having a good time. That doesn’t mean he’s always going to be that way.”

Though begrudgingly, you had to admit that Marty struck a chord. You couldn’t fault the guy for having fun while he was young; it was what you’d do if you were in his shoes, too.

So, though you were still not fully convinced, you earned a squeal from Nykki when you agreed to a double date with Andrei: bowling and drinks. He was every bit as charming and kind as Marty promised, flashing his knee-weakening dimple at you every time he threw his ball with effortless ease.

The second date followed shortly thereafter—rock climbing followed by ice cream. If he was nervous, you couldn’t tell; instead, he exuded a confidence that was close enough to cocky without crossing the line, and it suited him. The heated kiss in front of your apartment door was nice, too, bidding you a farewell that tempted you to drag him inside your bedroom and fuck him six ways to Sunday.

With a grunt from the man next to you, your memory replay vanished. Six months later, you couldn’t believe you’d ended up here, sleeping beside a man you once thought you might like to sleep beside for the rest of your life. Only this time, it wasn’t by choice, and you weren’t happy about it.

The trip was a farewell of sorts, to the season behind them and, briefly, to each other before everyone parted ways for the summer. Andrei and Pyotr were heading back to Russia for awhile, Marty to Czechia, and Jesse to Finland. Being the only non-NHL affiliated member of the party, you were the only one for whom this was a ‘normal’ vacation, and you’d report back in Raleigh at the end of the week.

When Nykki extended the invite to you, you accepted under the terms that you wouldn’t have to spend much alone time with Andrei, but you did have to be cordial. Terms that you didn’t have a problem with, though the prospect of being on a trip with several other couples leaving you and Andrei the only single members of the group felt a little bit like a trap.

But, Nykki reassured you, showing you the Airbnb listing that had a bed for each of you. Well, one was an air mattress, but you were more than happy to accept that as opposed to the alternative.

It was all set, and you were actually looking forward to a week in the sun with your friends. The Airbnb was just as advertised: clean, well-decorated, and huge. Each couple had their own room, and there were so many bathrooms everyone pretty much got their own, something you were grateful for to have a little privacy.

You tucked your bag into the office despite Andrei’s insistence that he’d be happy to take the air mattress and let you have the remaining bedroom. Remembering your promise to Nykki, you threw a smile on your face and assured him that it was fine. He lingered in the doorway, and you imagined that he was probably teetering between wanting to push back and not wanting to argue less than 30 minutes after arriving.

However, as you began to attempt to push the heavy desk closer to the corner to create more room for the air mattress, Andrei didn’t take no for an answer as he walked up beside you and moved it with ease.

“Thank you,” you said, biting back the sassy remark you wanted to make about being able to handle it yourself.

He waved it off with a small smile, exiting the room to leave you to settle in.

It was all going swimmingly. Until it wasn’t.

After laying out the air mattress and plugging it into the wall, you discovered a hole in it, making it impossible to blow up or stay inflated.

Nykki wandered in after hearing you cursing, quickly assessing the situation. She helped you search for something—anything—to attempt to patch the hole, but even after slapping a thick stripe of duct tape over the hole, it wouldn’t stay inflated for more than 20 minutes.

“You can stay with me. Marty—he can sleep on the couch,” she offered, though you could see in her eyes that making her boyfriend sleep on the couch wasn’t the ideal situation for her vacation that she’d been the primary planner for.

“No, Nykki, I can’t make him do that,” you shook your head. “I’ll be fine on the couch.”

The only problem with the couch was that while there were a few, they were all in the middle of the living room, allowing minimal privacy as well as blasting you with light as soon as the sun rose daily. It wasn’t ideal, but you’d slept in far worse conditions.

“You can share my bed with me.”

The deep voice surprised you, but not as much as seeing Andrei standing in the doorway, eyes watching the sadly deflating air mattress on the floor. Nykki’s eyes widened, glancing back toward you.

“No, Andrei, it’s fine. I’ll take the couch.”

“It’s a King bed. There’s way too much room for just me. You won’t even know I’m there.”

“That’s a great idea!” Nykki exclaimed, and for a brief moment part of you wanted to flick her in her gorgeous face, because although you knew she’d want you to enjoy yourself, she also wasn’t entirely convinced that the door was closed for you and Andrei. “Then you don’t have to deal with the extra noise when people start to wake up. I know you’re sensitive to the light.”

There wasn’t much arguing to be had, remembering your promise. Admittedly, after seeing the sheer size of the bed, you thought to yourself it wouldn’t be so bad assuming each of you kept to your designated side.

Which is how you ended up awake at 3 in the morning, shivering under the scrap of sheet you had left.

Staring at the ceiling, you contemplated your options: 1) Stab him to death, 2) Suffocate him with your pillow, or 3) Go searching for an extra blanket somewhere in the Airbnb that you were calling home for the next 5 days.

Unfortunately, option 3 was probably the most logical, so with a heavy sigh, you rolled yourself out of the bed, allowing yourself to wallow in annoyance and frustration. Someone was looking out for you, though, for it only took a few minutes of wandering in the dark to find an entire closet full of soft, warm blankets. Selecting a fuzzy green one, you hugged it to your body before quietly tiptoeing back to the room. You had half a mind to slam the door, but thought better of it, since you had no desire to wake everyone else up.

You weren’t quiet, however, retrieving an extra sweatshirt from your bag before flopping back into bed, part of you hoping his sleep would be disturbed since he’d so effortlessly ruined yours. Warmth slowly began to seep back into your body as you turned your back to Andrei, sleep not far behind.

The next morning, you woke up in a makeshift cocoon of your sweatshirt and the spare blanket you’d found the night before, tucked into the comforter. Squinting your eyes open in the light of the room, you were relieved to find Andrei was gone, affording you the delicious luxury of stretching your limbs without worrying about nudging him.

Quiet chatter sounded from above you, along with the distant sound of feet padding on the tile floor, signaling that others were awake. After a few moments of introspection, you made your way upstairs to find about half of the group huddled in the kitchen, slowly sipping on their mismatched mugs amid quiet conversation.

A low, murmured chorus of “Morning”s sounded when they saw you, taking a seat at the island next to Marty, who offered an affectionate nudge of his knee.

Andrei was busying himself in the kitchen, cleaning up the empty wine glasses left on the countertop from the night before. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at how helpful he was being–where was that courtesy when he was snatching your covers?

When he turned, his eyes landed on you. He frowned slightly seeing your expression, but if he wanted to say something, he opted not to.

“Coffee?” he asked, gesturing to the Nespresso behind him. With a quick glance around, you realized he’d made everyone their drink of choice—at least, to the best of his ability, given the limited selection. “I make a grumpy latte.”

“You mean ‘mean,’” Seth corrected. “‘I make a mean latte.’”

Andrei repeated the word, and you could practically see the gears working in his brain to commit the turn-of-phrase to memory. Then his eyes were back on you. “A mean latte, then?”

“Please.”

A steaming hot mug was placed in front of you a few minutes later. With a small, polite smile, you thanked him before joining in the conversation about the day’s agenda—not much, other than a day at the private beach, and a full barbecue feast later on. When you learned Andrei would be staying back with the boys, you quickly volunteered to head to the grocery store with Nykki to pick up supplies for the week.

Part of you was thankful that it was just you and Nykki, wanting to share your updates—and maybe vent a little bit.

“So? How was it?” she asked, glancing at you from the driver’s seat once you’d parted from the driveway. “Maybe a little snuggle action?”

Rolling your eyes, you did your best to reign in your irritation at last night’s events. You decided against reminding her that it was her fault you’d been forced into domesticity against your will. “Ha. Fat chance. Turns out he’s a blanket hog. Don’t remember that from…”

Nykki’s eyebrows waggled at the way you brought up your rendezvous together. “Maybe you’d sleep better if you were both naked.”

“Nyk, please,” you said, though you granted a small chuckle at her persistence. “The guy is a dick. I’m extending an olive branch—for you—”

“—for everyone here.”

“Fine, for the sake of everyone’s well-being this week,” you corrected. “But I have no interest in renewing whatever that was—”

“—the start of a blossoming, budding, beautiful romance?”

“If that’s what it was, then he ripped up the roots and poured weed killer all over them.”

Pursing her lips, Nykki cast another glance at you, then conceded with a reluctant nod. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I still think there was a miscommunication or something.”

“His ex-girlfriend left his apartment in last night’s clothes, Nykki,” you said matter-of-factly. “I’m not really sure how that could be a miscommunication.”

She hummed, a non-response, and you allowed comfortable silence to settle between you two as she navigated the route to the grocery store. Looking out the window, you watched the trees roll by as you were swept back to the memory in question.

Your keys jingled on their ring that was looped over your middle finger, a large green smoothie cold in your hand as you hit the elevator button with your elbow. Taking a sip of your own smoothie–mixed berry with vanilla yogurt–you waited excitedly as you watched the elevator floors tick down. Finally, it reached ‘LL’ and the stainless steel doors slid open.

Punching the 14, you glanced at yourself in the mirror, checking your reflection. Balancing the second cup in the crook of your arm, you fixed your hair and fluffed it up a little, checking your teeth to make sure there were no chia seeds in them. When the ding of the elevator signaled you’d arrived at your destination, you set off down the hallway with a flutter in your chest.

That flutter died quickly when a door down the hallway opened and a blonde girl wearing a wrinkled dress stepped out, bidding a final goodbye to the apartment’s inhabitants. Her hair was mussed, knotted, like she’d just woken up after a long night and didn’t bother to brush it out. The loosely buckled heels on her feet were the final indication that yes, this was certainly a classic case of a walk of shame.

In any other instance, you might be chuckling to yourself, offering a reassuring nod as someone who’d been in her shoes before. Except the apartment she’d just come out of was the very apartment you were heading to. And unfortunately, you recognized her easily from sleuthing on Instagram: she was Andrei’s ex. More specifically, the ex he’d just broken up with a few weeks prior, and you were the new girl in his life.

Or, at least you thought you were. Until right now.

You were meant to be surprising Andrei with a smoothie from your favorite local shop, something you’d mentioned on your most recent date. When he’d responded to your text asking if he was home, he hadn’t bothered to let you know he was busy yucking it up with his ex-girlfriend.

As the pieces flashed together in front of your eyes, you felt your heart break. Maybe things weren’t going as well as you’d thought. Maybe after some time away, Andrei realized she was, in fact, the one he wanted, and it took being with you to realize that. Maybe you just weren’t his type, and she was.

Self-deprecating thoughts swirled through your brain, taunting you as you turned on your heel and marched toward the stairwell, unwilling to share the same air as her on the elevator, even if it was only for a few moments. Tears filled your eyes as you made your way down, flight by flight, your thoughts only getting worse as you wondered what you’d done wrong.

By the time you reached the bottom, aggressively tossing the untouched green smoothie in the trash, you’d come full circle to end at one conclusion: You hated Andrei Svechnikov.

The sound of Siri indicating an upcoming turn pulled you out of your reminiscence, blinking away the memory that still haunted you. While you knew Nykki was right—you had only been on a few dates with him, and there certainly had been no discussion of relationship status or commitment—you still couldn’t push away the fact of the matter that he hurt you.

What made matters worse was that the dates you had been on were great. He was, as Marty promised, kind, funny, and the banter was the perfect flirt-to-roast ratio. Small though it was, the bud of your romance was just beginning to swell before it all came crashing down.

And the sex? Best you ever had. Like, legs shaking, heart pounding, mind-blowing, life-altering kind of ‘best.’ Funny how Marty had failed to mention that as a possibility.

So, needless to say, not only was sleeping beside him torturous for the sheer distaste you held for him, given everything that transpired, but having to sleep beside his half-naked body was torturous for a whole different reason. His muscles dipped and rippled with every movement, the sheer size of his biceps enough to make your heart flutter.

And that was only while he was asleep.

Awake Andrei was even worse, the dimpled smile paired with the form-fitting, too-short inseam swimming trunks that hung low on his hips, sans t-shirt of course, was enough to make you want to pull your hair out. You couldn’t deny that summer looked good on Andrei, and vacation looked even better; he was more relaxed, the time away from the rink working wonders on his mental health in ways he probably barely understood. His infectious smile was rarely not on his face, which also showed a few days’ worth of facial hair, peppered in along his jaw.

In any other circumstance, he’d be the perfect catch: tall, handsome, rich, amazing in bed. Except he was also a dick. And selfish, and inconsiderate, and an absolute fuckboy. Exactly like you predicted.

You’d told all of this to Nykki, who simply raised an eyebrow at you. She looked at you like she had something to say, like she was analyzing the thoughts inside your brain, but if she came to a conclusion, she kept it to herself, and after pulling into the grocery store parking lot, the conversation was all but forgotten.

A few hours later, the fridge fully stocked with food and plentiful drinks, you sat on the edge of the deck, leaning backward to feel the sun warm on your skin. Nykki was sunbathing beside you, Seth on your opposite side cuddling Gigi in his lap while he watched the others play an intense round of volleyball.

The sound of the light chatter faded into the background as your eyes closed, allowing relaxation to sink into your bones. You might have had a less-than-ideal sleeping arrangement, but you were still on vacation in a beautiful home on a beautiful beach with your friends, an entire week free of obligation and surely full of core memories. The sun was shining, the ocean was blue, and you were going to make the most of it regardless of the Russian who’d hurt you.

Coincidentally, your eyes opened moments before the feeling of being smacked in the leg jolted you up, quickly followed by the feeling of cold liquid on your foot.

“Oh, shit, sorry–”

It took a moment to recognize that the volleyball had veered off-course and not only hit you in the leg, but spilled your drink in the process. And, of course, the culprit was none other than your bedmate, who was looking at you bashfully. It took everything in you not to let your eyes slide down to the way the rest of his torso was shining with a mixture of sweat and sunscreen that made him look like a fucking pageant contestant. His cheeks were flushed slightly pink and he was panting, another action that brought you back to memories you’d prefer not to relive.

Seth tossed the ball back, breaking the very brief moment of tension between you and the Russian. Resisting the urge to scoff and roll your eyes, you instead waved your hand to show him it was no big deal. It wasn’t, of course, but it certainly didn’t help the irritation that dripped off of you in waves whenever he was around.

Fortunately, all of it dissipated by the end of the day, you a few seltzers deep playing cornhole. Though you were partnered with Marty, you were conveniently side by side with Andrei, playing against Pyotr. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol toying with your system or if Andrei’s hand lingered when he’d hand you the beanbags. Surely, though, it was definitely the alcohol when you felt a tingle where his fingers brushed against yours.

You and Marty triumphed over the Russians in a close victory, celebrating with a late-night jump into the ocean and a warm, roaring fire waiting for you once you dried off. Taking your place in the seat beside Pyotr and slipping on a sweatshirt to cover your damp body, you watched with a grin as Nykki brought all of the fixings for s’mores on a platter.

“What’s a sah-more?” Andrei asked, his accent preventing him from understanding the American dialect.

“S’more,” you corrected. “Like, ‘I want some more.’ S’more. Because they’re delicious.”

Pyotr watched you, perplexed, as you demonstrated, grabbing a marshmallow from the bag and placing it on the end of your rod. Once it was perfectly swollen and golden, you crafted the sandwich, Seth assisting as you placed the graham crackers around the chocolate and marshmallow, pulling it off of the rod and squeezing. Andrei’s eyes widened when he realized—perhaps a little slowly—the point of roasting the marshmallows to make them soft and gooey.

“A s’more,” you said with a grin, handing the sandwich to Pyotr. Cautiously, he took a bite, and you couldn’t help but laugh when his eyes lit up.

“How do you know when it’s done?” Andrei asked, his tongue sticking out as he pushed two onto the rod you handed him. You were quick to take his hand and move it when he proceeded to stick the marshmallows directly into the flame, instead showing him where to hold it to allow for a more even roast.

“You want to keep it moving so it gets an even cook,” you explained, Jesse watching you intently. “How you cook it is a personal preference—I personally like it when it’s a little crisp on the outside—but I would see how you like it golden first. That’s the classic way.”

Naturally, Jesse lit his on fire in an instant, Pyotr letting his swell so far that it fell off and disappeared into the flame. Andrei’s eyes stayed on you, studying the way you rotated the marshmallow, observing it periodically to ensure an even bake. When he was done, you showed him how to stack the sandwich and place the crackers to pull off the marshmallow cleanly. It was weirdly sweet and intimate and… domestic. You were quick to brush the thought away, like a bug that landed on your arm.

His smile when you handed him the s’more was more rewarding than the actual taste of your own. “Your first s’more.”

“Sah… more.”

“Close enough,” you said, then raised yours. “Cheers.”

Drunk, full, and smelling entirely of campfire smoke, you crawled into bed a few hours later content and happy. You didn’t even mind the dip in the bed beside you, or the soft sound of his breathing in the silence of the room. In fact, you found it almost soothing, allowing it to lull you to a seltzer-infused sleep.

It was the sneeze that woke you up, startling you from a dream you were having about Andrei. The details were hazy, but you remembered a sense of warmth and a flash of his dimple, along with the depth of his voice…

Murmuring a ‘bless you,’ you wrapped your arms around the pillow you were holding onto tighter as you snuggled in, hoping to fall back asleep for a little while longer.

But then the pillow started shaking, and the sound of deep laughter erupted beneath your ear, and all at once you realized it was not a pillow that you were hugging at all, but a human. And not just any human, but a man—a tall, handsome, Russian man. One who you were supposed to despise. No, one you did despise.

With a jerk, you pulled away, sleep still clinging to your eyes despite your surprise. “Fuck, what the—m’sorry.”

As your vision began to clear, you squinted amidst the light to see Andrei, grinning so wide his missing tooth was visible. The cross on his chest was crooked from sleep, and his hair was mussed in a really delicious, sexy way that reminded you of—

“We were supposed to keep to our separate sides,” you said, quickly retreating back to yours. The sheets were cold, and you instantly missed the warmth he provided as you tugged the blanket up to your chin to hide the goosebumps that erupted over your skin.

“I did,” he said, and even though he was right, it didn’t stop you from being annoyed.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? Or move me?” you scoffed. You’re making it harder to hate you.

He shrugged. “You looked so peaceful. It didn’t bother me. I know I’m a bit of a blanket hog when I sleep, so if I can keep you warm, I’m more than happy to.”

It was so sweet it was infuriating. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you simply chose to offer a, “Thanks,” before sliding out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

The warmth of his body tingled against yours as you changed into your swimsuit, though you did your best to shake the feeling.

The next few days passed quickly, a blur of swimming, catnapping in the sun, and full of laughter. You and Andrei managed to form an unusual routine, splitting privacy in the bathroom and generally avoiding each other outside of what was necessary. Since you were the only single members of the group, it was only natural for you to be paired up from time to time, adding to the already uncomfortable dynamic, but you made it work with minimal complaining.

His kindness irritated you. It seemed genuine, almost like he couldn’t help himself, but it also felt like he was subtly—or not so subtly—trying to make up for what he did. It was strange that he’d never come out and addressed it, but, then again, neither did you, instead keeping that layer of vulnerability buried deep. When you complained, Nykki simply rolled her eyes at you, so you learned to keep it to yourself and let it fester. Surely a healthy option.

It kept cropping up, though, when he’d return from the cooler with an extra drink for you and when he would check to make sure you had enough blanket before going to sleep, or the time that you turned around to ask Monica to rub sunscreen into your back only to find she’d dozed off and he volunteered bashfully.

“I’m not going to bite, you know.”

“I might,” you said, mostly teasing but not entirely. You felt a little bad at the surprise on his face, unsure whether to laugh or to drop the sunscreen bottle and walk away. Unfortunately, the feeling of his large hands rubbing your back was divine, almost sinful, and you caught a small moan moments before it slipped past your lips.

You found it almost nauseating to constantly flip back and forth between loathing, lust, and whatever else was in between. One moment, he’d be irritating the hell out of you, and the next, you found yourself daydreaming about the way his chain bumped against your chin when he—

“I know it’s pretty late in the day, but I brought you a coffee. The way that you like it.”

The sound of his voice made you jump, and Andrei murmured a soft apology. You were lying on a beach chair, sunbathing, engrossed in a romance book in which the main male character reminded you a little too much of the man you were sharing a bed with. The man who was standing beside you, offering you a coffee. He’d taken note of the way you’d rummaged through the small collection of spices in the kitchen, sprinkling a little bit of cinnamon on your coffee, and, without a word, continued to prepare your coffee that way every morning.

See? Infuriating.

Accepting the glass from his outstretched hand, you allowed the irritation that bubbled inside of you to simmer for a moment. You really did try to swallow it, to let the olive branch be enough, but then the words were blurting out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Can you stop being so nice to me?”

Andrei’s brows knitted together, confused. You hated how dumb and cute he looked when he was confused. “Stop… being… nice to you?”

Well, when he said it like that, it sounded stupid.

“Look,” you sighed, “I am trying to be cordial because I made a promise to Nykki not to cause a fuss this week. I appreciate that you’re being so kind, but honestly, it really isn’t necessary. The bare minimum is fine with me.”

Ignoring the pang of guilt you felt when a look of hurt crossed his face, you sat firm while his eyes locked with yours. He was confused; you could see it in his eyes, and you resisted the urge to punch him for having the audacity to be upset that his feelings got hurt.

“I don’t even know why you hate me,” he finally said, quietly, sitting on the edge of the other chaise, eyes cast down at the deck.

“I don’t—I don’t hate you, Andrei, you just–” you paused, briefly flashing back to the sight of the girl in last night’s dress. Then, you continued, hating how small your voice had gotten in the brief pause. “I thought we had something going, before.”

“We did,” he said quickly, looking up to meet your gaze, like he was surprised that you’d acknowledged your past. “At least I thought we did. I was crazy about you. I think maybe I still am.”

His words struck through your heart, softening the icy crystals that had surrounded it–though, admittedly, they’d turned more into slush over the last week with him. Confusing, infuriating, messy slush. “Then why… how could you–?”

Concern washed over Andrei’s face, turning to face you fully. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw her,” you said meekly. “Your ex–Maya–leaving your apartment that day. In last night’s clothes. I was coming to surprise you with a smoothie. It wasn’t hard to figure out it was a walk of shame, Andrei.”

Andrei’s eyes widened, and he turned onto his back before scrubbing his face with his hands. It took you a moment to realize he was smiling–laughing, actually. Instantly, you were filled with rage; how could he be laughing at you in a moment like this?

You sat up, the urge to punch him in the face passing quickly and making way to being fully ready to move your things to the couch, unwilling to even be in his presence any longer. What a fucking asshole.

“No, wait, I’m sorry—I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” he said, sitting up too, your movement catching his attention. The smile on his face had faded almost instantly, though there were still remnants of laughter in his eyes. Unamused, you paused, mentally giving him 10 seconds to start explaining or else you were marching back up to the house and making him sleep on the couch.

“You aren’t going to believe me, but we didn’t—I didn’t… nothing happened between us that night, I swear.”

You raised your eyebrows, unimpressed, then blinked at him as if to say, ‘You’re going to have to do better than that.’

“I was out with the guys that night—I think I’d told you that—and she showed up at the end of the night. I said hi to her just to be nice, but she was pretty lit up. And there was a guy there who was being kind of creepy, and… she was just so drunk, I didn’t think she could make it home safe, you know? So I told her she could come back to my place.”

And? That doesn’t mean that you didn’t hook up with your ex that you broke up with and then went on a date with me, you thought.

“I let her take my bed, and I slept on the couch,” he continued, as if he was privy to the thoughts in your head. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t have done that to you, and I wouldn’t have even wanted to with her anyways. Not after I met you.”

You swallowed. “You didn’t… sleep with her?”

“No.”

Your heart sank as his words set in. Not because you were disappointed—in fact, you thought you were relieved—but mostly because in a matter of 3 minutes, you’d gone from annoyed, to fuming mad, to mortified beyond belief. You’d spent an entire 6 months hating this man for something he didn’t even do, all because you didn’t have the decency or decorum to confront him about it, and instead gave him the cold shoulder like a 14-year-old girl. You wished you could curl up into a ball and bury yourself beneath the towel forever.

Unable to bear his eyes on you, you covered your face with your hand as if it would take away the burning in your cheeks.

“Andrei, I–” you stopped, the embarrassment far too strong to continue speaking for a moment. Then, swallowing, you decided on, “I feel like such a dick.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “I would’ve been mad too, if I thought what you did. I’m honestly just glad you don’t hate me.”

“Oh my God,” you cried out, laughing at yourself as yet another hot wave of shame washed over you. “I’m so fucking sorry, Andrei.”

He smiled, his eyes soft on you in a way that said there was nothing to apologize for, even though you felt like you could—and likely would—continue to apologize every single day for the next six months, the same amount of time you’d spent hating him for nothing. The amount of time you’d wasted when you could’ve been with him.

What was worse, you realized, was that he’d been nothing but kind to you the whole time. Despite your more-than-frosty attitude, snarky quips, and general annoyance, he still stayed upbeat and chipper, never letting it dull his spirit. Marty had been true to his word, after all—not that you’d ever really doubted him.

“Could I—could I kiss you? Please?”

His question had your eyes snapping up to meet his, as if to make sure he wasn’t just pulling a prank on you. He was smiling, but not in a teasing way, and he was watching you, searching for any sign of hesitation.

“I’m sorry if that’s too forward. I just… I never heard from you again, but I didn’t know what happened, and I dreamt of what I’d do if I ever got the chance with you again.”

Your heart of ice melted into a puddle, trickling warmth in your chest. He’d never given up hope despite your most irritable, ruthless, horrible self. He’d never given up on you.

Meekly, still shy from your horrific embarrassment, you nodded, letting him scoot closer to you before he was leaning into you, pausing just before his lips touched yours to allow you to change your mind. You didn’t, instead closing the small gap and pressing your lips to his.

It was sweet, soft, like the marshmallow in the s’more you’d made for him a few nights prior, filling your heart with warmth that you hadn’t felt since the last time he kissed you. In an instant, all of the irritation, sadness, anger dissipated, floating away with the feeling of his lips.

When you pulled away, you couldn’t help the grin that spread on your face; it was automatic, curling upward until your cheeks hurt.

“I’ve wanted to do that all week,” he confessed, licking his lips as if to savor the taste of you.

“Maybe you should make up for lost time, then.”

His triumphant smile was the last thing you saw before his lips were back on yours, reacquainting themselves with your mouth. Large hands were quick to cup the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him—not that you had any desire to pull away.

Your heart was pure liquid as he kissed you, surging through the clouds like a high speed jet, and you were unable to stop your tongue moving of its own accord to flick at the seam of his mouth. Andrei was quick to pick up the slack, allowing his own tongue to deepen the kiss. His fingers threaded through your hair and you sighed against his mouth, feeling the embers in your belly roaring to life under his touch.

He wasn’t close enough, your body yearning for more. Fortunately, he seemed to be on the same page, his hands parting with your head in favor of trailing down your sides to your hips, encouraging you to shift until you were straddling his lap. It still wasn’t enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain, not with the way his hands began to trail fire underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding against your skin. In a matter of moments, you’d gone from furious, to morbid embarrassment, to clouded with lust as you were enveloped by a blanket of steam.

When you heard the sound of Jaffa’s enormous paws bounding down the dock, it took a few seconds to remember that you were in a public space—far more public than you’d have preferred, given you were moments away from being topless. Quickly, you pulled away and slid off of Andrei, running a hand over your lips in an attempt to straighten up your appearance as you heard Jesse and Pyotr’s voices echoing down the path.

You snuck a quick glance at Andrei, whose lips definitely looked swollen, and his eyes were shining in a way that made you want to kiss him again. His eyes caught yours, and you couldn’t help the grin that washed over your face when he smiled at you.

Once Jesse and Pyotr reached the platform, they looked at the two of you sitting side by side underneath the cabana, though neither of them said anything. Pyotr’s eyes lingered for a beat longer, catching Andrei’s in a way that said he’d already figured out everything that just happened. You knew because it was the same way Nykki looked at you a few minutes later, pausing ever so briefly to look at the few inches of space between you before she was back to her task of putting Gigi’s life vest on.

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly, distracted briefly by a rousing game of volleyball and tossing a water frisbee in the ocean for Jaffa and Gigi. Nykki had made a reservation at a nice restaurant on the beach at sunset, so you headed up to the house a bit early to shower and get ready. Alone in the bathroom, you had a few moments of quiet to yourself to reflect on how your world had been turned upside down in a matter of hours.

The contrast of feelings was strong, almost giving you emotional vertigo—moving so quickly from hate to… what? Figuring out how you felt about Andrei was going to be a strange journey, you thought, but something inside of you was eager to find out. As you thought about him, attempting to remove the incorrect assumptions you’d made about him, all of your other memories of him were fond, happy even, and you found that you were cautiously excited to spend more time with him without the hate-tinted-glasses.

Naturally, the other part of you was hesitant, unwilling to trust him despite the fact that he’d already debunked your reason for mistrusting him in the first place. Though it wasn’t intentional, he’d still hurt you, or, rather, you were hurt by what you thought he’d done, which meant the possibility of him hurting you again was still there, regardless of the intention. No matter what Marty said, or promised, the door for getting your heart crushed was wide open. And that terrified you.

As you wrestled with the conflicting thoughts in your mind, a soft knock on the door startled you, nearly missing a poke in the eye from your mascara wand.

“Can I come in?” Andrei’s voice was low, muffled by the door.

You hummed in approval, taking note of the flutter in your heart when he pushed the door open, a smile already on his face. His hair was wet, still dripping from a dip in the ocean, droplets sitting enticingly on his chiseled abdomen; you resisted the urge to watch one of them roll past the hem of his swimming trunks.

“I, um,” he stuttered, casting his eyes down like he’d just intruded on a private moment, “I need to take a quick shower. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“That’s okay,” you smiled—genuinely—and finished the last swipe of mascara. “I’m almost done anyways.”

Heat rose in your cheeks as he smiled again, squeezing behind you as you put your makeup away. Things were definitely different, a complete 180 from where you were at the beginning of the week. The feeling in your chest reminded you of how you’d felt after your first date: giddy, like a teenage girl with a crush. And you couldn’t deny the attraction you still had for him, the low pulse in your belly ever-present around his dimple and sculpted arms.

Andrei stepped out of the bathroom as you were adjusting the straps on your dress in the bedroom mirror, and your eyes flicked to him in the reflection. Of course, his towel was slung low around his waist, the steam around him symbolic in more ways than one.

He swallowed thickly, his eyes connecting with yours. “You look really pretty.”

“Thank you, Andrei,” you said, bashful, resisting the urge to add, ‘You look really pretty, too.’

Tension was thick between you two in the car, though if anyone noticed, no one said anything. Perhaps, you thought, everyone assumed it was the usual distaste and bickering, but part of you wondered if everyone else could sense the change that had occurred between you in the lower level bedroom. His leg pressed against yours, strong and firm, warmth seeping into your own thigh as you did your best to ignore it.

Dinner would’ve been fine, if not for the fact that Andrei’s eyes continually drifted to yours, a sparkle in them like he knew a secret that you didn’t. The glow of the sunset looked like heaven shining on his face, bright and warm in a way that complemented his smile perfectly. He looked like a god, or some kind of divinity, with his perfect bone structure and the deep boom of his laugh.

All at once, it hit you. While yes, you’d made some incorrect assumptions, you used his ex-girlfriend as a crutch to run away because, really, he scared you. He was the first man to ever make you feel so comfortable, so naturally at home; the first one who had real potential of being somebody to you. You did like Andrei—maybe, probably, deep down, you never stopped.

And if the way his hand lingered on yours when he helped you step into the car was any indication, maybe he felt the same way, too.

Once your revelation struck, it was difficult to think of anything else. It was like a curtain had been pulled back, a spotlight had been cast on everything Andrei. His commentary no longer peeved you, but made you laugh, endearing him to you and deepening the hole he’d made in your heart. His presence, rather than bothering you, enthralled you and set sparks alight in your chest. How could you have missed this?

Back at the Airbnb, a fire was quickly built and everyone gathered for another round of drinks and s’mores for dessert. Up until that day, it had been your favorite part: sitting around the crackling flame, telling stupid jokes and stories that eventually melded into deep conversation. But sitting there, mere feet away from Andrei, less than three hours removed from a realization that turned your world upside down, you could hardly wait until you could be alone with him in the privacy of your room. For the first time, you were looking forward to crawling into bed beside him.

Though you tried your best to act cool, you couldn’t help but glance at your wrist every five minutes, waiting all-but-patiently for everyone to decide they were ready for bed. Your lips burned from where he had kissed you, the feeling of his hands on your body seared on your skin. The warmth between your legs returned—or maybe it never left. If he was as excitedly nervous as you were, he didn’t show it; his relaxed exterior was almost enough to fool you that nothing had even happened between you, save for the low, subtle glances your way that told you no, it hadn’t been your imagination, and yes, he was very much anticipating lights out as much as you were.

It took everything in you not to run downstairs once the final embers of the dying fire were extinguished with water, instead matching Pyotr’s pace as he leisurely made his way back up to the house. You bid him goodnight, watching him turn down the hallway toward his room, and after checking that no one else was around to see you, you darted down the stairs toward the bedroom.

Andrei wasn’t far behind you, the sound of the door clicking shut catching your attention as you worked through your evening skincare routine. The tension between you was almost physically palpable as he sidled into the bathroom beside you, holding your gaze in the mirror.

As he brushed his teeth, his foot side-stepped to nudge yours, a subtle gesture that held so much more meaning. You smiled around your own toothbrush, very aware of his eyes on your ass as you bent forward to rinse. Part of you wished he’d take you right there, but then you thought about how much more space you’d have if you could just be patient for a few more minutes.

Painstaking though they were, eventually you crawled under the covers, anxious butterflies swarming in your chest as you watched him slip into the bed beside you. For the first time that week, you both intentionally crossed the invisible line separating the two halves of the bed, meeting in the middle in a tangle of limbs and hurried kisses, like making up for all of the time you’d wasted.

It wasn’t long before the pajamas you had thrown on were removed—part of you wondered why you even bothered, until he was chasing the fabric with his mouth, trailing slow kisses along your skin to replace the warmth. His hands traced the line of your spine, arching your back while his lips created constellations on your chest. Finally, his mouth followed the collar of your shirt past your neck, pausing to run his tongue along the column of your throat.

Once your shirt was tossed on the ground, he held eye contact with you as he descended back down your body, hands cupping your breasts before his mouth was on them, sucking and licking with a low groan. Your legs parted to allow him to settle between them while his hands worked their way down to your hips, reaching beneath you to squeeze your ass. The movement elicited a soft sigh from your lips, trying your hardest to stay as silent as possible to avoid anyone hearing you.

“Been thinking about this all week,” he murmured against your chest, “even though I wasn’t supposed to.”

Your mind was hazy, registering confusion a few moments late. “Why not?”

He paused, pulling back to look at you with an amused expression. “I thought you hated me until about four hours ago. Remember?”

Having his lips parted from your body allowed for a moment of clarity, and you laughed bashfully. “Oh, right.”

Nudging your nose with his, he smiled warmly before returning his lips to yours. You could feel his hands toying with the hem of your underwear, the grin curling on his lips against your mouth.

“What did you say earlier? I have to make up for lost time?”

Before you could even process a response, his hands were tugging your hips toward him, settling onto his stomach to make a trail of wet kisses on the inside of your thigh. The outgrown stubble on his jaw scratched at your skin, but you yearned for more, spreading your legs to encourage him to travel farther.

You could feel his chuckle against your skin, perhaps pleased with your eagerness, but instead of giving in to your silent request, he simply switched to the other leg. It wasn’t until you whined that he granted a small reprieve, pressing a kiss against your center, inhaling deeply.

“I sure missed you,” he murmured quietly, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or to your pussy. Perhaps both.

And then finally, his finger hooked into your panties, tugging them to the side as he feasted his eyes on you. His eyes were wide, tongue darting out to lick his lips like he’d just been presented with a five course meal.

Andrei dove in, his tongue attacking your folds with an intensity you’d never seen before. He laved at your wetness, groaning once the taste of you hit his tongue, arms wrapping around your legs as he settled in. The scratch of his five o’clock shadow was delicious, sending sparks through your body that had every nerve alight in a glow.

It wasn’t long before your fingers were carding through his hair, your legs pressing against his head as he worked you through an eye-rolling orgasm, doing your best to stay quiet. He was steady, patient, coaxing you through the final waves of pleasure, his eyes closed like he was enjoying it just as much. I doubt it, you thought.

You barely had time to process any words, brain fuzzy and toes tingly, before Andrei’s mouth was trailing its way back up your body, leaving a messy trail of his saliva and your cum on your stomach. Soon, his lips reached yours, reclaiming your mouth like he could barely stand to be away from it—though, if the rigid erection pressing against your belly was any indication, he liked the alternative plenty.

Which reminded you of a fleeting thought you’d had when his tongue was buried inside of you, which was that you wanted his dick. Very badly, in fact. So badly, that you didn’t even realize your hips were rolling up into him with a mind of their own.

“Andrei,” you whispered against his lips. Your hand fumbled its way down the toned peaks and valleys of his muscles, your final destination standing proudly at attention as it bumped against your pelvis. He twitched when you brushed him through his shorts. “Want you. Need you.”

He hummed, and then you felt his lips curl into a smile against your mouth. “Yeah?”

“Please.”

“What do you want, baby?” his voice was low, murmured against the skin of your neck as he trailed down. “Tell me.”

A whimper left you, and he nipped at your collarbone to remind you to stay quiet. “Y- your dick, Andrei. Please. Fuck me.”

Andrei paused, pressing his head against your sternum as he let out a guttural groan. “Been wanting to hear you say that for so long.”

His words earned a flutter in your chest, quickly heightened when his mouth attached to your nipple. He wasn’t in any hurry, and he seemed to be enjoying making you wait impatiently. Not that you could really think clearly with his tongue drawing sinful circles across your breast, sucking in a way that could only be described as worship.

You weren’t sure if it was 30 seconds or 30 minutes later, but eventually he finally wrenched himself away from your body in favor of removing his shirt. Greedily, your hands moved to drag themselves over the impressive muscle of his core, feeling the ridges with your fingers the way you’d been dreaming of all week. Your attention span was cut short, though, when your eyes were drawn to the waistband of his shorts, fighting for its life to restrain the very erect appendage tucked beneath it.

Andrei wasn’t moving fast enough, and you felt like you were moments away from tears if you didn’t get him inside you right then, so you took the initiative to tug down his shorts. The sound of skin slapping against skin covered the sound of your sharp inhale at finally seeing him, completely bare again.

“God,” you said, “it’s so fucking… pretty.”

A smirk formed on his face, and briefly, you wondered how many girls had told him that before. Probably a lot. But they weren’t wrong; everything about the man felt like he’d been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself.

Lowering himself down over you, caging your head in between his arms, he pressed another scorching kiss to your lips that sucked the air clean out of your lungs. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

In any other circumstance, you probably would’ve become bashful with a shy smile, but you could feel the heavy weight of his dick resting against your thigh, throbbing, and you found yourself unable to focus on anything else. You spread your legs, allowing him to fall into the cradle of your hips, before rolling them upward in an attempt to entice him.

He loved it, drinking in your enthusiasm in contrast to the sharp glares and snarky comments you’d given at the beginning of the week. But he didn’t let it deter him, instead taking a hand and tracing the outline of your lip with his pointer finger. You savored the warmth of it before he was dipping it into your mouth, then a second. Surely he could feel the vibration of your moan against his digits, smiling to himself when your tongue swirled around them.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “Just like that.”

Shivering under his praise and eager to earn more, you sucked on his fingers the way you’d suck on his dick, blinking up at him like how you’d seen in pornos. He licked his lips, enjoying the sight, a low “good girl” escaping.

His hand left your mouth, a messy string of saliva keeping you connected until his hand was moving to your core, still wet and still throbbing from your first orgasm. Plunging his fingers inside of your entrance, he diligently watched your face for your pleasured reactions, humming to himself when your mouth fell open.

A long, soft whine escaped, and his free hand was quick to cover your mouth with his palm. His mouth descended along your jaw, whispering hotly in your ear, “Gotta be quiet, malyshka. We have neighbors.”

Helpless, you nodded, pleading with your eyes to keep going, don’t stop. The movement of his hand was steady, patient, striking with intention and precision to have you keening quietly beneath him. Pleasure flooded you in waves, radiating from the pulse of your core, throbbing wantonly around his fingers. His thumb pressed against your clit, drawing slow circles in time with his movements.

The man was a Russian god, plain and simple. For all of the bitching you’d done about his extracurricular activities, you couldn’t find a single complaint now that his fingers were lodged inside of you and he was utilizing his extensive experience to your advantage, drawing you closer and closer to your peak.

But it wasn’t enough, not quite, not when you could feel his erection bobbing against your leg. You whispered his name, quiet but loud enough for him to remove his hand, eyes searching yours for a sign of resistance.

“Andrei,” you repeated. “I need you.”

A grin broke out on his face, though his hand didn’t budge from between your legs. “Fuck, baby. Say that again.”

With a burst of confidence, you reached between your bodies and pulled his fingers out of you, suppressing a whine in the process. Smoothly, and without breaking eye contact, you pulled his hand up to your mouth, taking his digits in your mouth again. He groaned as you sucked off your own essence, savoring the taste and briefly wondering what you’d taste like full of him.

“I said,” you purred, licking your lips, “I need you.”

Andrei let out a chuckle, shaking his head before biting his lip with a groan. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

I’m pretty sure I already died and went to heaven, you thought, but the words didn’t quite make it out of your mouth.

In an agonizing moment, he tore himself away from your body to retrieve a condom from his bag. He ripped it open and slid it over himself in the few seconds it took him to return to the bed, maneuvering himself between your legs. You couldn’t help the sigh of relief that came when his skin pressed against yours once more.

With unbearable patience, Andrei watched your face as he slid his tip through your folds, wetting himself with your slick. You whined, feeling yourself throb having him so close to where you wanted–no, needed–him.

And then, with only a smirk as a warning, he pushed forward and sheathed himself inside of you. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, though his groan of approval was questionably loud; if you weren’t being nearly split in half with his dick, you’d have had half a mind to scold him.

But then he was moving, experimentally, and all thought flew from your brain, leaving it completely vacant except for his name. His name, whispered in a prayer on your lips as he worked himself deeper, filling you up completely. Your hands fumbled in search of purchase, finding it in the taut muscle of his bicep, flexing deliciously as he held himself over you.

His lips were on you, on your lips, on your jaw, on your neck, intoxicating you until your brain was in a fog of nothing but pleasure. The tight coil in your belly was unraveling, already, brought halfway to climax by his fingers and drawing you instantly closer now that they were replaced by something even better. Confidence rolled off of him despite his eyes closed, like he was concentrating, hanging on for dear life.

“Feel so fucking good,” he said, his voice rough. “Made for me. Missed this. Missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a pang of guilt flashing through the haze when you remembered that you could’ve been doing this the entire time.

“You can apologize to me by saying my name again, kisa.”

So you did. Over and over again, calling for him in hushed whispers as if each time you said it, the shame would fade away just a little bit more.

“You want me to forgive you?”

You’d forgotten how to speak anything other than Andrei, and so you nodded, desperately.

He seized your lips one more time, kissing you deeper than you’d ever been kissed, enough that you were sure you stopped breathing for a moment. His hips ceased their movement, pausing while he was buried inside of you. “Come all over my cock, baby. Then I’ll forgive you.”

It didn’t take much effort to flip him over onto his back, his hands quick to find your hips to help guide you to your place on his lap. You took the liberty of teasing him back, dragging your core along his rigid length with your hands planted on the firm muscle of his chest. The action alone sent sparks coursing through your body; you couldn’t believe it had taken you so long to realize the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours.

Sinking onto him, you bit your lip to hide a moan. You didn’t waste any time finding a rhythm, rolling your hips to bring yourself up to the crest. His chest was steady beneath your fingers, and you found it hard not to swoon under his gaze, looking up at you like you hung the moon and the stars, like he couldn’t believe you were there, with him, in that moment.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, hitching when you circled your hips and brought a hand to your pelvis. He murmured a few words of encouragement, his jaw tense as he fought off his own impending orgasm, watching the way the pad of your finger brushed your clit.

“Andrei,” you whispered, just wanting to feel his name on your tongue. “Right there.”

“Yeah? Like that, dorogoy?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, and squeezed your eyes shut. His hand sought out your free one, lacing your fingers together as he hummed prayers of worship at your altar. It was quiet, and mixed slightly with Russian, but you made out a few words like “beautiful” and “want to feel you” amid the low whisper of his voice.

Before you could process or even choke out a warning, your climax hit you all at once, the way a roller coaster tips over the edge just before the drop. Heat flooded your entire body, a brightness washing over you as the pleasure wracked through you in waves. Distantly, you felt his hand squeezing yours and heard the vague sound of a groan as he hit his own peak.

You weren’t sure how long you lay there, slumped against his sternum, listening to the sound of his heart beating rapidly in his chest as the two of you became one tangled mess of sweaty limbs and heavy panting. As your heart began to settle down, you felt his fingers tracing shapes along your spine, soothing you.

“D’you think anyone heard?” you asked.

“You kind of… screamed. So they definitely know.”

“Oh.” You felt instant mortification creeping in, mind briefly wandering to how you were going to explain this to Nykki. But then his hand was moving to thread through your hair, combing through it with his fingers, the feeling sending those delicious tingles down your spine.

Eventually, though it broke your heart to do it, you parted from him to allow the both of you to clean up. Once you were back in bed, tucked beneath the covers, you couldn’t help the smile that curled on your face as the reality of the moment set in.

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

He paused, tugging you into him and wrapping a long arm around your shoulders. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said. --

EPILOGUE

Checking your watch for what felt like the fifth time in less than a minute, you sighed impatiently. Six weeks ago, you’d bid farewell to your on-again-sort-of-boyfriend with a series of kisses and a heavy heart. It felt unfair to have had so little time together from the end of your vacation to his departure for his homeland, but you reminded yourself that it was your fault for the poor timing. Still, you’d managed to keep in touch with regular texts and daily FaceTime calls, more often than not ending with you kicking your feet and giggling at the ceiling, though sometimes they left you feeling a different kind of giddy. The man was good with his words, you had to admit, and the deep timber of his voice, even through the phone, could send goosebumps trailing across your skin with a deep shiver and a flip of your belly.

When your phone buzzed, you almost hated yourself for how quickly you reacted, smiling to yourself when you saw his name pop up on your screen.

[Andrei:] Just left the airport. I’ll see you soon 😘

Waiting was nearly unbearable, but worth it when you heard the knock at your door. With a grin, you pulled open the door and launched yourself into his arms without a second thought, laughing at his slight “oof” he let out.

Eventually, he set you down, hands keeping their place on your hips as he smiled at you. “Hi.”

“Hi. I missed you.”

“Oh, you did? I couldn’t tell.”

“Shut up,” you said, giving him a playful shove.

Andrei set his bag by the door, unceremoniously plopping on the couch before gesturing for you to join him. After what felt like eons, it felt so good to press your cheek against his warmth, feel the weight of his strong arm wrapped around your shoulder.

“Hey,” he said a few moments later. You hummed, content and almost not wanting to ruin the moment. “I have something to tell you.”

His words gave you pause, sitting up to look him in the eye. He was bashful, smiling, and for a moment you were astounded by how handsome he looked: the 2-day scruff that you loved on him, his dimple peeking out, the glitter of happiness in his eyes, tired from travel.

He took a breath. He seemed nervous, which was unlike him, and you looked at him with concern.

“I know it hasn’t been very long, since we…”

“Rekindled.”

Andrei smiled. “Yes. That.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted whatever he was about to say, blurting out, “I love you.”

You froze, jaw dropping in horror when you realized what you’d said. It came out of nowhere, a fleeting thought that unexpectedly made its way to your mouth, and you looked at him, prepared for an immediate goodbye.

But instead he was smiling—grinning, actually. “I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend, officially, but you’re ten steps ahead of me.”

Heat flooded your cheeks and you covered your face in embarrassment. “I’m sorry for jumping the gun. I didn’t—that wasn’t supposed to come out. You don’t have to say it back.”

You felt his touch warm on your arm, gently bringing your hands down from your face. His finger tilted your chin toward him. He was looking at you, smiling, eyes warm and happy. “Answer my question first.”

“You didn’t ask me a question.”

He rolled his eyes, then straightened out and with a flourish of his hand, said, “Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

“Okay, you didn’t have to make it sound like a proposal,” you said, nudging his leg to let him know you were joking. “But yes, of course.”

Andrei smiled, moving to cup your face in his hand to bring it closer to him and press a kiss to your lips. He hummed, kissing you deeper, and in an instant, liquid heat began to weave its way through your bloodstream.

He pulled away, almost abruptly, earning a whine from you. You were nowhere near ready to be done kissing him, but then he tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled again.

“I love you, too, by the way.”