#andrei svechnikov x reader

[sydnikov]

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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#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov fanfiction #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagines #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes imagine #carolina hurricanes imagines #carolina hurricanes fic #carolina hurricanes x reader #hurricanes #hurricanes imagine #canes lb #nhl hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl writing #writing #fanfiction #'fleeting'

[pennylanefics]

Golden Hour - Andrei Svechnikov

a/n: my first svechy fic!! i am SO happy with how this turned out, it's so tooth-rotting sweet and UGH <3

summary: andrei tries to plan the perfect proposal with some help from his teammates and friends

word count: ~ 2.2k

Andrei had been acting off the past few days. However, since it was now the offseason for him, he had a lot more free time to go out and do things, so you didn’t think too much into it. Except for when he was with you, it was just as strange.

He was far more quieter than usual, sticking to reading books in the little reading nook that you two had created in your home, not saying a ton during dinner, and even though you were trying your hardest to not let it get to you, it was.

“I’m going to the store with Pyotr and Jarvy,” he states as he waltzes into the kitchen, dressed casually in a simple grey t-shirt and shorts.

“Okay,” you murmur, continuing to scroll on your phone. He awkwardly steps over to you and leans down to kiss you. Quickly, you look up and give him a small peck, turning your head back down as soon as it ends. He seems rather taken aback, but leaves not long after.

You sigh as you are once again left alone in the house, the quietness getting too much for you to handle. So, you decide to go shopping by yourself, picking up some books at Barnes and Noble before heading to other stores you’ve been meaning to get to. You spend the day trying to distract yourself, meanwhile, Andrei’s day was spent differently.

Half of the Cane’s gathered in Seth and Jack’s place, all crowded in the living room, talking amongst themselves. Andrei cleared his throat and stood up in front of the TV. Everyone suddenly quiets down and looks at him.

“So, uh, I need your guys’ help with something,” his voice wavers with anxiety. “I want to propose to (Y/N).”

The room erupts in cheers, Pyotr standing to hug his longtime friend.

“Where’s the ring?” Martinook asks, patting Andrei’s back. He grabs the ring from his pocket, opening the box and showing a stunning diamond ring, everyone crowding around to admire it.

“I don’t know what to do, though,” he says as everyone sits back down.

“Do you want a private setting?” Jarvy asks.

“Yes, I don’t want to be around anyone.”

They all brainstorm ideas for the next fifteen minutes or so: at an art museum, at the beach, in the backyard of your shared home, during a romantic dinner at a restaurant. Everyone rattles off any idea that comes to their brain, before he finally settles on one, after some discussion.

“You should do it during golden hour,” Brett states, speaking up with his thoughts. “She’ll look even more beautiful.” Andrei blushes deeply but nods at his words.

“I think I will,” he agrees. “Although I’m not sure she can look any more beautiful than she already is.”

A few of the guys coo at him, Andrei wasn’t usually one to express his feelings for his partner publicly, so this was a new side of Svechy to them.

“I’m sure she’ll love anything you plan, Svech," Jarvy comes over to pat his back in support. “And she’s guaranteed to say yes, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately because I’m so nervous.” He wrings his hands together nervously, scared that in some way, you’d decline his offer and he’d have to go home like a kicked puppy.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Martin wonders, looking over at his teammate.

“A few months. I bought the ring after we got to the playoffs, waiting for the perfect time. Seeing her with my name on the jacket, I knew I wanted it official,” he smiles and looks down at his hands.

The guys hang out for a little while longer before people need to start leaving and getting back to their families. Andrei stays over with Jack and Jarvy for a little while longer, catching up for a bit and asking him if he needed help planning anything else. So, that’s what they did, the two of them helped Andrei plan for his proposal, going over small details, the date he was planning on and what the weather was like, everything.

He returned home a few hours later, scared that you were going to be upset with him, since you didn’t seem too happy with him earlier.

“Baby?” He calls out for you, noticing that the house was rather quiet. He looks in all the places he think you’d be, but when he doesn’t find you, he gets worried. He checks one final spot, and it’s the backyard, where you enjoy reading on warmer days. You have a hammock set up in the trees, and he’s found you there plenty of times during the summer.

It was around the time of day that Andrei wanted to propose to you, but today wasn’t the right day. He walks outside, shutting the door behind him, and he slowly walks over to you, not wanting to startle you. He’s not sure if you couldn’t see him yet or you were ignoring him.

The sun was beginning to set, creating a soft orange glow on your face. He pauses in his steps, his breath literally taken away at how beautiful you are. Brett was right, the lighting made you look like an angel.

“Baby?” He calls out one final time. Your head whips to the side, looking at Andrei standing there sheepishly. He grins softly and waves at you, as you bookmark your page and get up.

“Hi. How was shopping?” You wonder, not caring that he was gone for far too long to be at just one store, but you refused to let your mind wander anywhere else.

“Fine. Jarvy needed a new couch so we went looking for that.” You nod, trying to push aside the fact that he’s been distant as of late, and attempt to reach up to press a kiss to his cheek. But since he was so tall, he has to lean down for you to do so, and thankfully, he does.

“Let’s go inside and have some dinner. I brought home some takeout,” he states, grabbing your hand to bring you along.

As the days go by, the day that Andrei had decided to propose to you on draws closer and closer, and he tries to keep himself from completely shutting down as to not worry you even more and ruin his chances.

When the day finally arrives, he’s way more nervous than when he made his NHL debut. Today was going to be a big day, and he was terrified yet excited, if you are to say yes. 

“Hey, um, I have a little surprise for you today,” Andrei says to you while you have lunch in the backyard. It was a nice summer day, not too hot and not too warm, with a cool breeze that made it bearable to be outside.

“You do?” You question after swallowing a bite of your sandwich.

“Uh huh. But you need to leave the house,” he bluntly states, but immediately backtracks upon seeing the look on your face. “I have to get something ready and you can’t be here.”

“Seriously?” He nods and takes a bite of his food.

“But a couple of the wives wanted to take you to get your nails done, I heard,” he continues. “They’ll be here in, like twenty minutes.”

Thankfully, you were already dressed and presentable, so it was now just a waiting game for whoever was taking you to show up.

Martin’s girlfriend and Brett’s wife pick you up and take you to the nail salon, acting as if they just wanted to have a girls day so you didn’t suspect anything more. They keep the comments to themselves, mostly, trying not to let anything slip past and ruin the proposal that Andrei was preparing for with Seth, Jack, and Pyotr. 

Andrei texts the girls once they have finished setting everything up, letting them know they no longer need to keep you any longer, but they had planned to take you to the bakery just a few ways down from the nail salon before taking you back home. 

And when they do, you are astonished. Andrei welcomes you in, wearing a nice dress shirt and pants.

“Hello. I have this dress for you to change into. We have a romantic night planned, so if you could get changed fast and come back out with me, we can go.”

You are so stunned by his words, you are frozen in place. He laughs softly and hugs you for a few seconds.

“Come on, babygirl. Are you okay?”

“Andrei, what’s going on?” He takes a deep breath and smiles.

“I wanted to plan a special night just for you. I haven’t been the best boyfriend I could be, so I’m making up for it.” Tears fill your eyes as you take the bag with the dress from his hands and walk to the bathroom.

“Also, I placed your shoes right outside the door for when you’re ready,” he calls from the other side of the door. As you get dressed and fix your hair a little in the mirror, you take a deep breath to ease your nerves.

The dress he picked out for you was a deep maroon, with lacy sleeves that went down to your wrists, and the flowy, tulle skirt ends just above your knees. It fit you perfectly and complimented your skin tone so well.

Stepping outside, you see he placed your favorite pair of black heels right next to the door, so you didn’t trip over them. You step into them and when you are ready, you walk back out to Andrei, who paces in the living room, waiting for you.

He hears you step into the room and he stops. His brown eyes are wide with awe, and his hands shake ever so lightly, enough for you to not even notice.

“You look…I’m not even have the words,” his grammar starts slipping a little, as what usually happens when he gets nervous.

“Thank you. And you look as handsome as ever,” you murmur, running your hands up his chest and to his shoulders as his hands land on your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Come with me, I have to show you something,” he whispers against your lips, moving his hands to take ahold of yours. He brings you out to the backyard, and that’s when you see it.

There are rose petals leading up to a makeshift arch with fake vines and ivy and white flowers mixed together. Your hand flies up to your mouth as Andrei chuckles. He helps you down the steps and through the yard, stopping right in front of the arch, which was directly in the path of where the sunlight hits in the backyard at sunset.

His eyes shine in the golden sunlight, tears already forming in them, and everything finally clicks in your mind.

“(Y/N), you have been such an important person in my life for the past five years. I never expected to fall in love with you, but it has been the best thing that has happened to me and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I love you with all my heart, and seeing you with the playoff jacket all the wives and girlfriends get, I knew I wanted to make it official. So…”

He pulls out the ring box and gets down on one knee, opening the box to show the ring. It glimmers in the dimming sunlight, sitting perfectly in the box. 

“Will you marry me?” You burst into tears as he finally asks, your hands shaking like crazy as he stares up at you, waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” you choke out, throwing yourself into his arms. He hides his face in your shoulder, the photographer stepping out further from where she was standing on the deck once you two got into place.

Andrei pulls back to kiss you, his hands cupping your cheeks, wiping your tears with his thumbs. He then carefully plucks the ring from the box and slides it onto your shaking hand. Getting up from his knee, he pulls you into a tight hug, his own tears finally falling down his cheeks.

Another sweet kiss is planted on your lips, his hands quivering as they cradle your face. Your hands wrap around his wrists to try and ease his own nerves, smiling widely against his lips, the kiss breaking from doing so.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth. “I cannot wait to marry you.”

Just then, Seth, Jack, Pyotr, Martin and his girlfriend, and Brett and his wife erupt into cheers on the porch behind the photographer. Andrei raises your left hand with his right one and the group comes running over to celebrate with you guys. 

The girls immediately ask to see the ring as the guys all chat with Andrei, congratulating him for everything working out. 

After talking a little while longer and more pictures taken, Andrei wraps his arm around your waist as everyone chats amongst themselves.

“So is this why you’ve been so weird lately?” You finally ask him, hoping that was the reason.

“Oh yeah,” he responds instantly. “I was so nervous and I didn’t know how to ask you. I bought the ring months ago but knew I had to do it soon.”

“It’s been months?” He nods and kisses your temple.

“But I knew I was going to marry you a couple years ago anyway.”

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov imagines #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov fanfic #svechy #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes fanfic #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[misshoneyimhome]

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

[comphy-and-cozy]

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.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #andrei svechnikov smut #andrei svechnikov x reader

[theemporium]

NO DRINKS FOR SVECH??? oh absolutely not! lets give him a lil dirty flirtini! "Let's flip coins. Head, I'm yours. Tails, you're mine."

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

19. “Let’s flip a coin. Heads, I’m yours. Tails, you’re mine.” 

.

“You look pretty lonely over here.”

You paused, the rim of your glass hovering just at your lips as you turned your head to find a familiar face grinning at you. In all honesty, you were surprised it had taken him as long as it did to come over, considering the fact his eyes had been glued to the second you walked into the bar.

“You been watching me?” You asked, despite knowing the answer. 

“Maybe,” Andrei murmured, his cheeks rosy and pink from whatever drinks he had been nursing since the win earlier that night. It was a big one, one that deserved the boys heading out to a local bar and pretending like they didn’t have practice the next day. “Thought you’d come and say hi.”

Against your better judgement, your eyes flickered over to where the boy had been stationed for most of the night. Most of the players were sitting around or near the booth, along with a flurry of girls in a mix of jerseys that had followed them from the rink. You tried to not roll your eyes at the sight. 

“You looked busy,” you answered eventually with a halfhearted shrug.

Andrei was grinning when you looked back at him. “Not fun when my favourite girl doesn’t talk to me, though.”

You tried to ignore the way your face heated up at his words. “You trying to sweet me up so I buy you a drink, Svech?” It was meant to be teasing, funny even. Something to cover up the fact the boy had more of an affect on you than you cared to admit.

“Maybe I was hoping you’d let me buy you a drink,” he retorted, stepping a little closer until his arm was leaning against the counter and his body was mere inches away from you.

You cleared your throat, taking a long sip of your drink.

Andrei tilted his head to the side. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No,” you lied before turning to face him again, his eyes watching you with focused intent. “I just…”

“You just?” He prompted, fingers lightly tapping against the wood of the bartop. 

“I just thought you would have more fun over there,” you answered eventually, nodding in the direction of the booth where the majority of the team was still sitting. “I was probably going to leave after this drink.” 

“It wouldn’t be fun over there,” Andrei said with a shake of his head. “Not without you.” 

“Andrei,” you sighed, his name heavy on your tongue. Because he did this. He always did this when the two of you were drunk. He would come over, make you feel all warm and fuzzy with his flirty words and cute accent and then you would feel like an absolute idiot in the morning when he acted like nothing had happened. “I can’t keep doing this.” 

It was adorable the way he frowned in confusion. You hated yourself a little for thinking it was adorable.

“Doing what?” He questioned, his lips turned downwards.

“This. Us. This friends with benefits situation,” you confessed, your chest feeling oddly tight as you managed to spit the words out. Every cell in your body was screaming for you to stop, to not rip away the chance to feel his body pressed against yours again. But your brain knew better, your brain was being logical. “It isn’t healthy.”

Andrei blinked. “You think we are just friends?” 

Your gut twisted a little. “You think we aren’t?” 

“I–” Andrei looked a little bashful, and it was oddly endearing to see. He seemed to contemplate something, his eyes watching your expression closely before he spoke again. “Let’s make a bet.”

You paused, thinking you misheard him. “What?”

“A bet. You know, with a coin,” he continued, and hints of that self-assured smirk started to appear as he stepped forward. His hand cupped your elbow, keeping you close as the small distance between you closed and that familiar warmth of him overwhelmed your senses. 

“A coin,” you repealed, still a little lost in his touch to fully compute what he was saying.

“Yes,” he nodded, smiling down at you with that grin that made your heart lurch a little in your chest. “Let’s flip a coin. Heads, I’m yours. Tails, you’re mine.” 

You could feel your cheeks burning. “I—”

“You weren’t just a friend to me,” he spoke up, a little more serious as he lifted his other hand to gently cup the back of your head. “I just thought…I don’t know. I thought you knew. There was no one but you for me. From the start.”

You blinked, your chest feeling heavy for a whole other reason now. “Oh.” 

“Can I buy you the drink now?” He asked, that playful smile of his spreading across his face as his thumb lightly brushed against your cheek. “Or do I have to find a coin to flip?” 

“You did say it was a bet,” you teased.

“If that’s what it takes, malysh,” he murmured, his gaze dipping down to your lips and, for a second, you thought he would lean down to kiss you. But then, he was stepping back and you found yourself instantly disappointed as he continued to walk backwards.

“Where are you going?”

His grin widened. “To find a coin and make you mine!”

You snorted. “I might win.”

“I’m not complaining.”

.

#cece's cocktail celebration #andrei svechnikov #nhl #carolina hurricanes #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov x y/n #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: anon(s)! baby fic is here!! apologies for the wait but it’s long and i hope it’s worth it ☺️ honestly this fic feels like total chaos but i kind of love the vibes. not too much to say other than this was fun to write and i think we’re done on svechnikov baby birth fics lol

word count: 6.4k

tw: mentions of labor, brief innuendo, post partum anxiety (not diagnosed in fic)

summary: it’s time for baby svechnikov number four to make their entrance into the world and of course it’s chaos in the best possible way

“Mama!” Alina shrieks for your attention and your heart skips a beat at her volume, mild fight or flight kicking in before you catch sight of her in the doorway and see that she’s fine.

“Christ,” you mutter to yourself, heartbeat returning to normal. The baby gives a violent kick to your kidney and you wince. “Sorry, bub,” you pat the side of your stomach, “that hit of adrenaline couldn’t have been fun.”

Alina shouts for you again and you level her with a stern look, “hey, what did Mama tell you about shouting like that?”

You’re too pregnant to be gentle parenting, but if you don’t remind Alina about her indoor voice, she’ll just run rampant over the next few months while you’re completely distracted with the new baby. She shuffles her feet and pulls at the little ruffles on the sides of her bathing suit.

“No shoutin’ unless someone’s bleeding or really, really sick,” she sighs and when you nod, she perks up with a toothy little grin. “But I had to shout ‘cause Papa says your frone is ready!”

“My frone?” You repeat, brows scrunched together in confusion. You repeat the word a few times under your breath until it clicks. “Oh! My throne?”

Alina nods and does a little wiggle, bouncing on her feet. “Come on, mama! We wanna show you!” She’s definitely still shouting, but your middle daughter has never understood the concept of an inside voice.

You smile at her and laugh, “okay, mama’s coming, Alya. Remember I’m very slow.” You brace one hand at your lower back, the other hand rubbing at the side of your distended belly. As scary as it is, you’re glad that you’re being induced tomorrow - your entire body is sore and your back and hips are killing you from carrying around this giant Svechnikov baby. Your actual due date isn’t for another week, but since baby’s measuring so big, your ob/gyn made the call for a scheduled induction.

“Mama’s like a tuuuurtle,” she grins slyly, skipping back to the yard and leaving you shaking your head.

As soon as you get to the back door, you can feel the mid-August Raleigh heat and humidity, sweat already prickling at your hairline and armpits. You frown, already uncomfortable and not really in the mood to go outside. Leaving the air conditioning is going to be miserable, but the girls were begging you to join them and Andrei outside, so how could you resist. You scrape your hair back into a knot on top of your head, trying to keep as much of it off your neck as possible. Little pieces fall out anyway and curl with the humidity.

You wedge your feet into the pair of Adidas slides at the back door and step carefully over the lip onto the back patio. The heat hits instantly and you frown, cranky. The baby jabs an elbow into your side and you wince - there’s absolutely no room left in your stomach and every time the baby moves, you’re painfully reminded of that. You hadn’t even realized your stomach could stretch this much, but baby number four is testing the limits.

“Maaaaamaaaaa!” Alina and Kira shriek for you in stereo and you wave from the door, reluctant to go outside into the heat.

“Mama’s coming,” you call back, bracing a hand under the curve of your belly and waddling farther out onto the patio. The air feels like soup and you have no idea how Andrei and the girls are so energetic. Before you can make it a handful of feet, Andrei’s at your side, kissing your temple and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Hi,” you murmur.

“Hi,” he smiles down at you, looking a little tired. His face is bright pink too, which you had warned him would happen. “Off to your throne, solnyshka.”

You let him guide you over the grass, avoiding the lawn toys and stray Barbie dolls that litter the ground. You’re perfectly capable of walking on your own, but it’s nice to lean your weight against Andrei’s side and have him help you. “Did you reapply sunscreen?” You ask, knowing the answer. Besides his face, his shoulders, chest, and arms are all tinged pink too.

He wrinkles his face at you. “I think once? I’m fine,” he shrugs and stops in front of your throne.

It’s one of your beach chairs settled in front of the girls’ old baby pool, an umbrella stuck in the grass behind the chair.

You grin at Andrei as the girls sprint up and dance around you.

“Do you love it, Mom?” Evie bounces excitedly on her toes. “That way you can watch us play!”

“I love it!” You cup Evie’s cheek in one hand, ruffling Alina’s hair with the other. “This is the best throne ever, you guys are making me feel so special.”

“Only the best for our koroleva,” Andrei winks at you, hoisting Kira up onto his hip when she starts tugging at the hem of his swim trunks. She grins her little toddler grin at you and then whispers in Andrei’s ear, a chubby little hand splayed on his cheek. He nods seriously and says, “yes, Mama will watch you go down the slide.”

You laugh and lower yourself into the chair, your lower back popping and protesting. A little groan slips past your lips and all four of your watchdogs whip their heads in your direction. The girls have wide eyed looks on their faces and you offer up a comforting smile, “sorry, girls. Mama’s okay, remember it’s hard for me to sit so low.”

A brief bout of Braxton Hicks two weeks earlier had taken you by surprise and your startled yelp and the way you had doubled over from the shock had scared the girls a little, so they’re insanely keyed into any weird noise you make lately.

“Why don’t you get Mama’s drink?” Andrei sets Kira back on her feet and nudges the three of them off with his hands. After they skip off, Andrei helps you swing your legs up and over so your feet kick in the cool water in the baby pool.

You sigh happily, dropping your head back, “oh god, that feels good. It’s hotter than Satan’s ass crack out here.”

The baby kicks, the outline of a little foot visible through the taut skin on your stomach, as if agreeing with you.

Andrei scratches at his jaw, rasping his fingers through a couple of days’ worth of stubble. “It’s not so bad, when you have the girls spraying you with the hose every two minutes,” he laughs a little, squatting down next to you and shaking his head so stray droplets of water fly off of his hair. Your face crinkles up and you swat at him, giggling. He taps at the side of your stomach, hand warm against your skin. “The little one is behaving?”

“In the loosest sense of the word,” you sigh, shifting in the chair, trying to get comfortable. “I’m kind of ready to get my lung capacity back.”

His hands stroke over the swell of your stomach, the baby’s arms and legs following Andrei’s touch. You pluck at the white linen fabric of your dress where it’s stuck to your skin with sweat, regretting the choice of clothing. “Tell me when you want to go inside,” Andrei says. “Girls will be fine if you’re not watching the water war.”

You hum, swishing your feet in the water. “A little vitamin D is probably good for me,” your smirk matches Andrei’s when the double entendre is out in the air. It’s been a minute since you had Andrei inside of you, too uncomfortable for the exertion, and you miss having him that way. The horny days of your second trimester are long in the rearview mirror.

Before he can say anything, the girls come running from the house, ice rattling around in the Stanley that Evie’s got clutched in her arms. You grin at the sight - your oldest leading the charge with her younger sisters following dutifully behind. Evie unceremoniously drops the cup on your lap with a chirpy, “here, Mama! Daddy even added lemon for you.”

“Oh, my favorite,” you reach out to tug on one of Evie’s braided pigtails and she beams at you before dancing away, Alina hot on her heels. Kira presses her little body up against your thigh and looks at you with puppy eyes. “What’s the matter, Kiry?”

“I have?” She asks, pointing at your Stanley.

You nod and hold the cup out for her, straw pointed in her direction. She plants her hands on the metal and chews a little on the straw while she sucks back more water than you expected. Andrei laughs a little when she gulps down the water, releasing the straw with a heavy sigh and then runs off, shrieking for her sisters.

“Adding another one to this chaos is going to be wild,” he comments, leaning back and splashing his hand in the pool water, hitting your shins with little droplets.

“Poor number four is either going to be the loudest to be heard or the quietest with three big sisters talking for them,” you giggle, tracing your fingers over the engraved 37 on the Stanley - the WAG Christmas gift that keeps on giving. You get a particularly painful kick to the ribs and wince, muttering, “maybe that first option.”

“Dadddeeeeeee!” A trio of shrieks echo across the yard, the girls calling for Andrei to rejoin them. He stands up and presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Duty calls,” he gives you a little salute and jogs off, leaving you to enjoy the way his ass fills out his bathing suit. It’s a view that never gets old, but even better is watching Andrei chase the girls around and play with them, matching grins on all four of their faces. He chases them through the sprinklers - if those have been on all morning, your water bill is going to be through the roof - and lets them splash him, pretending to get scared. He watches while the two older girls clamber up the side of the small inflatable water slide you’d ordered back in June when it was obvious that the majority of the summer was going to be spent in Raleigh, with the girls running loose in the backyard.

Kira stays at the bottom, in the splash zone, shrieking happily when Evie and Alina zip down the slide and hit her with water.

It’s honestly the best thing you’ve ever bought - the Nečas kids have been over for play dates at least once a week to run wild in the water and you’ve had a ton of the other guys and their families over for barbecues and parties. Now, you’re just glad it’ll keep your girls occupied while you relax.

After you’ve been outside for an hour or so, you call them all back so you and Andrei can reapply sunscreen to the girls’ pink little faces and shoulders. Andrei gets his own healthy dose of sunscreen, even though it’s too late for him to avoid the sunburn on his face, chest, and shoulders. You make a mental note to throw a bottle of aloe into the fridge when you get inside.

“I hate this, Mama!” Alina whines, bouncing from foot to foot while you try to cover her face in Baby Coppertone. “It’s yucky and sticky and I don’t want it!”

“If you don’t let me reapply,” you huff, out of breath from trying to keep her still between your knees and your severely diminished lung capacity, “your skin is going to turn pink and hurt.”

“I want pink skiiiin!” Alina howls, dodging your sunscreen covered hands and running off, her face a little mask of white from the lotion you hadn’t been able to rub in properly. She disappears into the playhouse and you roll your eyes, giving up completely. You’re too exhausted to fight her and tomorrow’s sunburn will be a problem for the babysitting grandparents while you push out the bowling ball baby laying on your bladder.

Behind you, Andrei laughs and teases you, “just like her Mama, that one.”

“Absolutely not,” you grumble, holding out your hands to him so he can pull you to your feet. “I’m literally so quiet and agreeable.”

“Maybe when you’re sleeping,” Andrei scoffs, helping you step out of the pool. His palm finds the side of your stomach like a magnet, fingers spread over the swell protectively. “Otherwise, you’re stubborn like a bull.” He pauses, smirks. “And loud.”

“You’re terrible,” you mutter, waddling as fast as you can to the bathroom. “Bullying the woman who’s carrying your fourth giant baby.”

Andrei’s voice carries through the bathroom door as you shut it behind you, “this is only the second big baby! The other two were normal sized.”

Later, when it’s far past your bedtime and you still can’t sleep with excitement and nerves swirling low in your belly, you whisper into the dark of your bedroom, “Drei? Are you awake?”

It takes a second, but eventually he replies, “depends.”

“On what?” You reply quietly, shifting and bending your leg so you can open up your hip a little and relieve some of the uncomfortableness. Kira curls closer to you, one arm draped over your stomach, the thumb of her other hand wedged firmly in between her lips. She looks even more like a baby while she sleeps, long eyelashes fluttering against the tops of her cheeks, and you start to feel emotion clogging your throat. Her last night of being the family’s baby. You hadn’t had the heart to put her back in her own bed when she came wandering in a few hours ago.

“On what you need from me,” Andrei’s voice is clouded with sleep, but you see and feel him roll onto his side so he’s facing you.

You stick your tongue out at him lightly. “Last night as a family of five,” you murmur. “Any final guesses - fourth girl or first boy?”

“Girl,” Andrei replies on a yawn, reaching his hand out and over Kira to rub at your belly. “Belly looks the same as it did with all three, just bigger.”

He’s not wrong, but, “agreed. But only because I think my nose spread out again like with the girls.”

“You’re just as beautiful as always,” Andrei says.“Your nose looks the same too.”

You’re convinced he’s lying, but there’s no point in arguing now.

“Think we’ll see bub tomorrow or will it be a couple of days?” You yawn, exhausted but wired. You can’t decide if you have to pee or if it’s just the pressure of the baby.

“Tomorrow,” Andrei laughs a little, “if the kid knows what’s good for her.”

You yawn again and Andrei tells you to get some rest, “it’s going to be a busy few days, solnyshka.”

Somehow you manage to fall asleep and then it’s induction day, a hectic morning consisting of four grandparents showing up and three little girls bouncing around asking if their baby is coming yet. You’re overwhelmed by the time Andrei helps you into the passenger seat of the Navigator, kissing you gently.

“Calm, my love,” he murmurs against your lips, rubbing at your stomach. “We know what to do, right?”

You nod, “right.” Wrapping your fingers in the neck of his t-shirt, you tug Andrei back in for another kiss. “Let’s go have a baby!”

Twelve hours later, you’re dripping in sweat, contractions gripping your stomach every thirty seconds with regularity. Andrei’s eaten lunch, dinner, and then a second dinner around 8:30. You, on the other hand, are on your ninth cup of ice chips and are dying for something that will actually fill you up.

You hold out your hand for Andrei’s when another contraction starts and he lets you crunch his fingers together while you breathe through it. “More ice?” He asks, brushing frizzy, damp strands of hair off your forehead.

“No,” you huff, slumping back against the pillows. “I never want to see an ice chip again. The second this kid pops out, I need you to get me a party platter of sushi, I don’t care what time it is.”

Andrei laughs and promises that he’ll get you whatever you want.

After that, it’s a blur. The contractions are nonstop, your ob/gyn between your legs encouraging you to push, and Andrei’s arm braced around your upper back to give you some leverage.

“Okay, I see some hair,” your doctor says. “Big head, but one push and it should be out. Then we’ve got a baby!”

Andrei murmurs encouraging words in your ear that you barely hear over the rush of blood in your head and the guttural scream that forces out of your throat. You scream and cry and there’s pressure and then release as the baby slides out.

You’re allowed to slump back against the pillows, tears streaming down your face while you crane your neck to see the baby, “is the baby healthy? Is she okay?”

“He’s just perfect,” your doctor beams, holding the baby up. “It’s a boy, mom and dad!”

Her words sink in and you start sobbing - a little boy!

Your husband’s big hand is cradled over your head and the baby’s on your chest, bloody and scrunched up and crying. Your own hands automatically come up to cradle him, your lips pressing against the top of his head. “A boy! Oh my god, Drei, a little boy,” you sob to him, laughing into Andrei’s mouth when he kisses you.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says shakily, his cheeks wet. “A son. Solnyshka, thank you. He’s - thank you. Fuck, I love you so much.”

Andrei’s hand comes up to cover yours on the baby’s back and you’re jolted by how warm his hand is compared to yours, you’re shaking and freezing, but all you can focus on is how happy you are.

The baby’s cries taper off and he nuzzles against your chest, your heart melting at how perfect and adorable he is.

“He looks like the girls,” Andrei comments, unable to stop staring. His fingers stroke over the baby’s back, your own trembling with the adrenaline come down.

You laugh. “They all look like you, babe. My genes never stood a chance,” you can’t stop smiling, pressing your lips all over the baby’s head. He’s so warm against your chest.

You’re not sure how long you get to keep the baby on your chest, but the next thing you know, you’re in recovery, dozing while you watch Andrei hold his son. The baby is a big one, like you’d expected, weighing in at a sold nine pounds, eleven ounces. Your entire lower body is still throbbing with pain, but it’s all so worth it to see Andrei with the baby cradled in his arms.

“Four kids and I still can’t believe he’s real,” Andrei chuckles hoarsely, gazing down at the baby with shiny eyes.

“Oh, I can believe it,” you reply dryly, shifting with a wince. “I feel like we should’ve been more prepared with boy names.”

You’d run through the list of the few that you had liked, but none seem right. His middle name will be for Andrei, but the first name is stumping you both.

“We’ll figure it out,” Andrei looks up at you with a grin. “I love you so much, I said that, right?”

“Several times,” you hold out your arms and wiggle your fingers at him. “Give me back my baby, Drei.”

Andrei transfers the baby to you with the ease of a practiced parent, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. You’re both exhausted and it’s so early in the morning the sun isn’t even up yet. You’ll have to pass out soon, but right now you can’t get enough of the infant. He looks so much smaller when he was in Andrei’s arms. You trace over the slope of his nose with the tip of your index finger, seeing so much of the girls and Andrei in his features. “You sure you don’t want to name him after your dad?” You ask, double checking.

“No, no,” Andrei shakes his head. “Geno has that covered. Besides,” his lips twist up in an impish little smile, “Igor’s not my favorite name.”

You know he’s thinking about the Canes’ most recent loss to the Rangers in the second round of the playoffs. The Rangers getting swept in the ECF had been extremely satisfying in your house.

You giggle a little and watch as the baby yawns. He’s been quiet, sleeping on and off, so much more peaceful than his older sisters. “Okay, I get it. You know, my grandfather, his name was Demetrius. A few letter changes…Dimitri?”

Andrei’s knuckle brushes against the soft pudge of the baby’s cheeks and murmurs the name. “Dimitri,” it sounds so different, so much better in his accent, “Dimka.”

He yawns in your arms and it feels like something clicks into place in your chest. You nod at Andrei, “that’s it. That’s his name.”

“Dimitri Andreievich,” Andrei laughs as he says the name. “Big name for a little boy.”

“He’s almost ten pounds,” you scoff. “This is a gift from the Big Boy genes, oh husband of mine.”

He smirks at you, leaning in for a kiss and your poor battered vagina gives a weak throb of pain. It’s too soon for him to be this adorable.

After a solid three hours of sleep, broken up once so you can try feeding Dimitri, you start pestering Andrei for your sushi. It’s nearing eight in the morning on the nineteenth, making it nearly twenty-four hours since you had breakfast with the girls before coming to the hospital.

“What about anything else?” He frowns at you. “Sushi for breakfast is…” He trails off, wrinkling his face in disgust.

With the baby latched to a nipple, you pout at him. “Did I or did I not push your giant child out of my body?” You pause to inhale and then continue, “And! Since it was already this morning before someone thought to feed me, all I’ve eaten in twenty four hours is ice chips and a peanut butter sandwich. I am starving!”

Andrei laughs at you, but before he can answer, gets distracted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. It’s probably Elena, looking for an update since you hadn’t called anyone in the early hours after Dimitri had been born, exhausted and looking to soak in the time as a trio. You turn your attention to the baby while Andrei chats in Russian on the phone. He hangs up and sits down on the edge of the bed, wrapping his hand around your knee. “Mama says the girls are going wild, waiting to hear about their new baby,” he grins toothily. “Can sushi wait? I think maybe I’ll go get the girls to introduce them to their brother.”

“Natives are restless?” You ask, the guilt of being away from the girls, even for a day, even to literally give birth, starting to creep in. Tears well in your eyes and you don’t bother to do anything about it, knowing you’re going to be a weepy mess for the foreseeable future. “How do you feel about meeting the big sisters, D?”

Dimitri lets out a soft little baby squeak and you give Andrei a watery grin. “I think he likes that plan. Bring me my girls.”

In the time that Andrei’s gone, Dimitri naps in his little plastic bassinet and you get helped into the bathroom by your nurse, ready to sit with the girls as long as their attention spans can handle it. You brush your hair back into a neater braid and wash your face clean of sweat. By the time that Andrei texts that he’s parking, you feel a little more human.

You can hear little footsteps running down the hall and you rub a hand over Dimitri’s belly, “get ready for Hurricane Svechnikova, bub.”

“Mama!” Evie bursts through the door first, hair in two pigtails on the top of her head and a bright red tutu around her waist. You beam at the sight of her and open your arms.

“Hi, bunny,” you coo, emotions clogging up your throat. “Come give me a hug!”

She dances over to your side and clambers up on the bed, nearly smacking you in the face with a piece of construction paper and jostling you a little painfully. You wrap her up in a tight hug, inhaling her little-kid scent of markers and Johnson and Johnson shampoo. Over her shoulder, you see Alina skip into the room and you hold open one arm.

“My Alya,” you grin. “Come join Mama.”

She’s in a Canes giveaway t-shirt that you’d cut down so it wasn’t a literal dress on her and you briefly wonder how wild they were being if this is how they ended up dressed. Alina needs a little help getting up on the bed and as Evie is pulling at the back of her shirt, Andrei appears at the door, Kira on his hip and an exasperated frown on his face.

“Didn’t Papa tell you not to run?” He raises an eyebrow at the older girls cuddled against your sides.

“We missed Mama,” Evie replies, pouting. You smooth a hand over her hair and shake your head at Andrei. They don’t need a parenting moment right now. Kira wiggles in his arms and reaches for you until Andrei relents and settles her on your lap in a way that doesn’t cause you pain. None of the girls have even so much as looked at the baby, but you’re not rushing them, knowing it’s a big change for them.

Andrei settles on the little couch while the girls fill you in on all the fun they had with the grandparents yesterday. They make Andrei bring you the bag of pictures they drew for you and the baby and that seems to trigger them. “Oh! Wait, Mama,” Evie perks up and looks around, “where’s the baby?”

You laugh and point at the plastic bassinet, “your little brother is right there. Just waiting to meet you three.”

Like it was rehearsed, all three of them scramble to the side of the bed to get a good look at Dimitri.

“He’s a boy?” Alina asks, squinting down at him.

“We have a brother? Not a sister?” Evie carefully reaches a hand into the bassinet to touch one of Dimitri’s tiny feet. “I thought it was a sister.”

“Baby!” Kira pats the edge of the plastic. “Baby in Mama’s belly?”

You kiss the back of her head. “Yeah, this is the baby that was in Mama’s tummy. His name is Dimitri.”

Andrei comes over to lift Kira and Alina into his arms so they can get a better look at the baby. “It’s different, right, to have a brother?” He asks, looking at you softly. You know he wouldn’t have cared if the baby were a girl, but there’s something about men and their sons, and you’re beyond happy that you were able to give him that.

“He’s not going to do much for a while,” you say. “But when he gets moving, I bet you’re all going to have a lot of fun.”

“Mmm,” Evie hums thoughtfully. “Boys are kinda yucky.”

“I’m a boy!” Andrei gasps, mock offended. “Am I yucky?”

You shoot him a wicked smile over Evie’s head and mouth ‘filthy’ at him, surprised that you even have it in you to flirt with him. Andrei laughs, his eyes sparkling, and you both nearly miss it when Evie chirps, “yeah, ‘cause sometimes you’re smelly after hockey.”

You snort a laugh and then, sensing that he’s missing some kind of party, Dimitri stirs, making little noises and wiggling his arms and legs. The girls watch, fascinated, and you skirt around Evie so you can pick him up. You glance at the clock on the wall and it’s been close to two and a half hours since you fed him, so he’s probably hungry. He starts to fuss more and the girls look a little disgruntled by the noise, so before they start complaining, you pucker up and plant a smacking kiss to Evie’s cheek, making her giggle. “How about Papa brings you guys back home so you can play and don’t have to watch me change any stinky diapers? Then you can come back later with Nana and Pop and Babu and Dedu? You can introduce them all to your new brother,” you grin, adding more excitement and animation to your tone so they’ll get excited too.

“You’re sure?” Andrei asks, even as your two middle kids are fighting in his arms, chattering at each other over who touched who. He’d scooped them off the bed as soon as Alina started poking at Kira to see how close she could get the former baby of the family to the edge of the bed without pushing her off. The noise they’re making is starting to agitate Dimitri and you’re very sure. Andrei himself looks a little frazzled with the girls practically shrieking in his ears.

“Go ahead,” you widen your eyes at him. “We’ll, ah, we’ll do a little more sibling bonding later in the day. D and I aren’t going anywhere.”

Andrei looks conflicted about leaving you, but honestly, Alina and Kira’s fighting is starting to give you a little bit of a headache. Dimitri is fussing more and you don’t want to start feeding him with the girls in the room because that opens up all the “whys” and “what are you doings” that the girls are so prone to these days.

Evie’s tucked against your side, looking down at the baby. She sighs and looks up at Andrei, “he’s so loud. Let’s come back when he’s quiet.”

Andrei’s mouth tips up in a half smile and you manage a weak laugh, reflexively holding out a hand to guide Evie when she half rolls, half climbs off the bed and beelines for the door. She waves over her shoulder and chirps a blithe, “bye Mommy, bye baby brother.”

“I think she’s expecting you to follow her,” you say to Andrei, a little wide eyed at your oldest’s actions. Securing Dimitri in one arm, you wave the other at the door, “go, please! Before she gets kidnapped!”

“Right, yeah,” Andrei nods and bounces the girls in his arms, “say bye to Mama. We’ll see her later, okay?”

Taking a little break from fighting, Alina and Kira wave at you over Andrei’s shoulders, blowing kisses. You wave back and then practically deflate when the door shuts behind Andrei and you’re left alone with the now opening crying Dimitri. You sigh and get him adjusted on your breast, quieting him immediately. You rub tiredly at your eyes, frustrated and exhausted. Maybe you’d underestimated the chaos four kids are going to be.

Once Dimitri is finished eating, you call for a nurse to bring him back to the nursery so you can get some much needed sleep. “I always feel bad sending them to the nursery,” you confess to the nurse, Jenna. “It makes me feel like a bad mom.”

“Sweetheart,” she laughs warmly, “I saw that husband of yours head out of here with your little girls. Sleep as much as you can before going home to that chaos.”

“They’re usually much better behaved,” you say wryly. “New sibling apparently throws off the routine.”

She tucks Dimitri into a swaddle and says, “oh, they get used to it. You two are old pros at this, so I think you know what you’re doing.”

You smile warily at her, a nervous pit in your stomach that you hadn’t felt after any of the girls’ births. You’re not sure why you feel so unsettled now, raising a boy in the early infancy stage isn’t any different than raising daughters. When Jenna takes Dimitri back to the nursery, you slide down on the bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin and getting as comfortable as possible to take a nap. A few tears leak out of the corners of your eyes, dripping down your temples and into your hair and you take a deep breath. It catches in your throat a little and you hiccup, covering your eyes with a cold, shaky palm.

Somehow, you manage to nap on and off, dozing in that weird limbo where you can hear most of what’s happening around you, but time passes faster than you think. After what feels like two minutes, but is actually closer to two hours, you give up on the nap and find your phone in the mess on the bedside table. You busy yourself with responding to texts and scrolling through social media, zoning out to a video of a woman making homemade pop tarts when Andrei appears at the door.

“Delivery,” he announces, your head shooting up at the sound of his voice. In his hand is an obscenely large paper bag with the name of your favorite sushi place stamped on the side. He catches your gaze and shakes it enticingly. “Husband of the year, yes?”

“If there’s spicy tuna in there, I’ll get the trophy engraved now,” you tease, a small, but genuine smile on your face. Andrei kisses the corner of your mouth and sets the bag on the rolling table.

“Two spicy tuna and plenty of miso soup,” he promises, sitting down on the mattress and helping you unpack the plastic containers.

You rub your chopsticks together and ask, “how are the girls? Everything okay at home?”

Andrei’s in different clothes than when he left and he smells like soap and cologne, so you know he at least showered when he got home.

“They’re good, don’t worry about them,” he reassures you, passing over a container of seaweed salad. “Kir was down for a nap when I left and our moms were playing Barbies with the older two.”

You nod, poking at the seaweed with a lazy motion. Andrei’s gaze is steady on your bent head, you can feel his eyes studying you and so you eat a mouthful of the seaweed, chewing slowly. As hungry as you had been earlier, it’s hard to swallow now. Andrei’s knee bumps yours and you look up at him, worried brown eyes on yours.

“What’s going on, solnyshka? Are you okay?” He ducks his head so he can maintain eye contact. One of his hands comes up and cups your cheek. You lean into his touch and shrug.

“I’m okay,” you sigh. “Just…”

Andrei’s quiet while you try and find the words. You’re not even sure what you’re feeling, why you’re so overly emotional.

“I missed the girls,” you say quietly. “But, four kids? It just…this isn’t going to be easy at all, Drei. They all started chattering and Dimitri was crying and I just wanted to cry too.”

“He’s not even a day old,” Andrei says gently. “It’s okay you’re emotional. I’ll tell you a secret,” he laughs under his breath, “I cried in the car when I went to get the girls.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, setting your chopsticks down. Andrei’s not usually one to admit to crying.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Probably more because we have a son, but still. I cried.” Andrei winks at you, smiling warmly.

A little laugh slips past your lips and you tug at the end of your braid. “I think I’ll be okay once I get into a routine. But I’m glad the moms are staying until the season starts, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Andrei scoffs and moves to sit next to you and wrap his arm around your shoulders so you can burrow against his side. “You’re the rock, koroleva. If anyone can handle me, four kids, and the hockey season, it’s you,” he praises you, mouth pressed against your temple. “Just tell me if you’re overwhelmed, okay? We figure it out as a team.”

You nod against his side, the knot in your chest loosening a bit. Your arm rests on his stomach and Andrei keeps you as close as possible, knowing you need the physical comfort right now. “We’re so done having kids, by the way,” you mutter into his shirt.

Andrei laughs and your whole body vibrates with the sound. He rubs his hand up and down your arm, teasing, “Dimka and I are still outnumbered.”

“Oh, that is not something I care about,” you laugh in response, snaking your hand out to pluck a piece of sushi out of its container. “We’re closed for business down there.” You pause and then continue, knowing Andrei will have a retort. “For baby making business. Other fun activities will be reevaluated at six weeks.”

Your husband gives you a mock little salute, amusement written plainly on his face. He picks up his own piece of sushi with his free hand, popping the piece in his mouth and chewing before he says, quietly and totally sincerely, “you’re the best mom the kids could’ve asked for, you know that, right?”

“You’re going to make me cry again, you big jerk,” you sniffle, pressing a hand to your mouth. “I just finished crying!”

“I’m sorry,” Andrei cuddles you closer. “Eat and rest, because the moms are not going to want to wait too much long to meet the little guy.”

You pull back a little so look up at Andrei’s face and he has a slightly dopey look in his eyes, a little upturn to his lips like he’s trying to fight off a smile. “You want to go get him, don’t you?” You ask, exhaling a little laugh through your nose.

Andrei nods eagerly, unable to hide his excitement. “Yeah,” he admits, “I know we should rest, but I really want to keep holding him.”

“Go get him,” you say, “I kind of want to get a hit of that newborn smell.”

“Weirdo,” Andrei captures your chin in his fingers and tilts your head up to kiss you sweetly.

You grin against his mouth, “your weirdo and mother to your weird children too.”

Andrei’s laugh follows him all the way out the door.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov fic #nhl fic

[heartmix]

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

[starry-hughes]

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

[uluvjay]

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

[sunkissed-zegras]

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

[theywantedplayer]

can i request “i’m going to fuck your so hard you’re going to forget that guys name” with Svechy?? 👀

MastersList

PromptList

NSFW

I love Matt but i just had to use him

You Decided to go with Andrie early to his game and walk him to the Hurricanes dressing room. They had a home game today versus the New York Islanders today so you wanted to wish him luck.

“Good luck today Andrie” You spoke giving him a kiss on the cheek

“Order in tonight?” he asked standing in the doorway

“Of course I’ll do a mobile order” you smiled kissing him softly

You walked down the hall and back into the lobby wanting to go get something to eat before the game. You were too busy on your phone to notice a person in front of you till you ran face first into them. Your phone hit the floor with a loud smack.

“Oh-oh my god im so sorry” You tried to laugh off

You went too far down to pick up your phone but a hand beat you to it, when you looked up you were met with a Familiar face.

Mat Barzal

“No no its ok, I mean it's not everyday I Physically run into a pretty girl” he smiled

You lightly laughed at what he said, wanting to Acknowledge what he said but not continue it on. 

“Sucks for me that your a can’s fan” he joked Gesturing at your jersey 

“Haha my boyfriend plays for the team” You said turning around to show him Andrie’s name on the back hoping he’d get the hint

“I think blue’s more your color” he flirted “I'd like to see you wearin a Islanders Jersey” He walked away but not before giving you a wink

You just shrugged him off just wanting to go get food, you stood there and looked up a place to get take out not wanting to pay 20$ for a hotdog and a beer. You were just about to start to walk away but someone called your name making you turn around.

God please don't be Mat you thought but when you turned around you saw Andrie walking towards you. You smiled widely seeing your boyfriend 

“Did you forget something?” You asked “I was just about to get food want something to fuel you up before the big game” you laughed

“Hell was that!” Andrie spit at you

You were takin back at his tone of voice and the way he was standing in front of you, more like towering over you.

“Wha-” “Mat!”

Ohhhh you thought, you didn't think he saw

“He was just talking to me and I showed him my Jersey” You tried to play off.

As much as you wanted to tell him you didn't want him Targeting mat on the ice. even though if it was a physical competition he would win.

“ when you were showing your jersey staring at your fucking ass the whole time” He told you 

“That’s not my fault” You tried 

“I know it's not your fault damn it!” He groaned “He was flirting with you”

“So what?I didn't reciprocate it”

Andrie was sick of this, he hated to see other guys flirt with you, he looked around before he grabbed your arm and pulled you into one of the broom closets nearby. When he pulled you into the closet he pushed you up against the wall, your back against his chest and your agency on the cold wall.

“So what?” he asked roughly 

You tried to looked back up at him in the dim light off the closest 

“He was all fuckin over you and You know it” he said

You bit your lip at his voice, He knew his jaw tightened and his eyebrows crossed just from his tone of voice. You felt Andrie’s hand move from your waist down to your jeans playing with the zipper 

“Drie” You whispered at him

“I bet you he said he wished you were an Islanders fan huh?” He asked as he united the front of your jeans.you stayed silent in fear of him stopping his touch.

You felt his hand roughly pull your jeans down to your knees giving him a clear view of your ass. He grabbed a handful of your ass making you moan slightly until a harsh slap hit your ass Making you gasp in response.

“Probably thought you’d look good in blue” he whispered into your ear. Slapping your ass a couple more times makes you jump.

“I think you look good in red baby because your ass is telling me you do” he Laughed 

You knew by what he said your ass was red with an Indent of his handprint probably. You could hear Andrie move behind you.

“i’m going to fuck your so hard you’re going to forget that his name” he Groaned into your ear making your stomach flutter

You jumped when You felt Andrie slap his cock against your ass a couple times chuckling. He pumped himself a couple times before he pushed all the way into you without warning, making your cheek press up against the cold wall. He gave you no time to adjust pounding into you at a cruel place to start with.

Making you moan with every thrust,

“A-a-n-nriee” you moaned out trying to get a hold off something but found nothing, so you rested your hand up against the cold stone wall.

“I bet Mat would like to see you like this huh?” He laughed in your ear. You heard how He emphasized Matt's name, the hatred for him spewing through his words.

Andrie moved your hair to one side off your neck to have room to kiss the other, hoping to leave marks to let Mat know who you belong to.The room was full of your moans and Andrie’s groans, the sound of skin slapping together around the room. Anyone in the hallway would be able to hear you, lucky the game didn't start for another 4 hours.

Andrie grabbed a fist full of your hair to pull you back making your back arch. His face hovering right over you smiling wickedly.

“Open up baby” He smirked

You did as you were told, sticking your tongue out as he leaned farther over to spit in your mouth. You swallowed like he’d want you to and gave him a sweet smile.

“Good girl” He grinned 

Andrie let go off your hair pressing you against the wall once again

“D-d-rie” You moaned “I'm gonna cum” you spoke

“Me too baby me too” he spoke

A loud moan left your mouth when you came shutting your eyes tightly, A sting of Words you couldn't understand left Andre's mouth as he came.he had a habit of an time he was feeling too much of any emotion he would slip into Russian without even knowing you started  picking up on little phrases here and there but nothing  good enough to brag about.

He pressed into you making a short high pitch moan leave your mouth, Andrie left soft kisses on your neck helping you down from your high as he pulled out. Your legs shook as he did, making him laugh, he grabbed your jeans that were hunched around your knees pulling them up for you.

When you turned around you were met with a very smiley Andrie Svechnikov, his dimples in their full glory.

“I wasn't too rough was I?” He asked pulling you into his chest  

“No Drei no, it was amazing” you mumbled tiredly 

“You know I love ya right?” he said kissing you on the forehead

“I know” You answered “I'm probably gonna go sleep in my car” You laughed 

“No,no,no Let be lead you put to the lounge you can nap in there” He told leaning  you into the closest “Antti’s wife’s already up there she can watch ya” He wrapped his arm your your shoulders and walked you up the lounge and helping you get comfortable on the Giant couch 

“Andre you should go get ready” You mumbled getting comfortable on the couch 

“I will, I will” he answered, giving you a kiss on the forehead before he walked out but not forgetting to say hi to Antti’s Wife.

#andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl smut #nhl x reader

[heartsandhischier]

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

[comphy-and-cozy]

The After Party II

Pairing: Brady Skjei x Reader (f) x Andrei Svechnikov

Summary: A year after your illicit tryst with your current fling and your ex-fling, you meet again. Part two to The After Party.

Word Count: 6.3K

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Light alcohol use/mention, swearing. Threesome (MFM - no MxM), fingering (vaginal + anal - f receiving), oral sex (m + f receiving (vaginal)), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, anal sex (f receiving), double penetration, mild cumplay. **Please do your research before engaging in any sexual activity but especially anal sex. This is fiction and by no means any indication of how one should prepare. :)

Author's Note: happy belated birthday, @smileysvech! I hope your bday gang bang 2.0 makes this year's celebration one to remember. thank you for being my biggest cheerleader and for all of your unwavering support. 😘🖤

nhl masterlist | moodboard

The party is unlike one you’ve ever been to. Like a themed sorority bid night, but with a much higher budget; the decor is elaborate, a sea of blacks and reds and glitter. Candles illuminate the room, making the atmosphere feel dark. Ornate. Indulgent.

Your boyfriend dons a black leather jacket and black jeans that accentuate his thick thighs. His jacket is completely unzipped, revealing more than a tantalizing sliver of his toned, golden muscles; they’re all but bare, the deep cut lines of his abdomen, an opportunity to show off his impressive body. The silver cross branded on his bare sternum is a stark contrast to the crown of thorns perched on his head. Judas.

Your dress contrasts his outfit entirely; lace and ivory wrapped around your body, the corset bodice hugging your figure. It’s demure, but the gold necklace—a 37 sitting prettily on your exposed chest—draws the eye down to your cleavage, a sexy twist to the otherwise sweet, shy, virtuous look. Thick, feathery wings glitter on your back, enhancing the angelic look, complete with a pretty, glittering rhinestone crown—symbolic of a halo. 

A light to his dark, day to his night, heaven to his hell. Andrei’s angel. 

His brand on you runs far deeper than his name etched onto your back at his games, and though your claim on him is invisible, he wears it proudly on his chest, seizing every opportunity to show you off as his girl. It’s been there since before he made you his girlfriend, officially, but it’s only grown since then in the last year that you’ve been together.

Tonight is no exception. Andrei’s hand lingers on your side, a silent message to anyone who would dare to question who you belong to. You’re not typically one for the whole possession thing, but you can’t deny him—not when he looks at you like that.

You mingle, sipping on your cocktail, enjoying the night of frivolity—one of the last before the final push of the season and preparation for playoffs begins. Nykki and Martin make their way to you two, and eventually, the two boys depart in favor of who knows what shenanigans. 

Across the room, talking to two pretty leather-clad demons, is the handsome brunette from your past. His handsome, warm smile is plastered across his face, no doubt letting some pretty words doused in honey drip from his mouth. You ignore the pang of—something—that bubbles in your chest at the sight, not even wanting to spend the time identifying what it is.

As if he can sense it, his eyes glance up and lock with yours for the briefest of moments. A smirk plays at the corner of his lips as he lifts his beer to his mouth, winking so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it. The next moment, he’s back to his flirtatious antics, laughing jovially at the taller of the two girls flanking either side of him.

You return to your conversation with Nykki, though you feel his gaze flitting back to you, burning a hole in your side, tempting you to look his way. Glittering disco balls hang from the ceiling, illuminating the walls with the light from the candles’ flames, and you ignore the urge to glance over at him again.

“Your outfit is so cute,” Nykki’s saying, fingers caressing the feathers on your wings. “And I love your wings!”

With a smile, you thank her. “I was going for a bit of a sexy angel vibe, you know?”

“I’m sure Andrei appreciates that very much,” she replies with a knowing smirk and a gentle nudge of your elbow. You chance a look back to the corner of the room, but the handsome brunette you’ve been making eyes at is gone; you don’t dare to turn your head to look for him, not standing next to Nykki. 

Soon enough, she gets called away, and you’re left alone, uncomfortably vulnerable at a party where you still don’t quite feel like you belong, despite having attended several events as Andrei’s other half. Swirling the ice in your cocktail glass, you’re about to down the rest of your drink so that you can head back to the bar before you search for your boyfriend. As the rim of the glass touches your lips, you feel a looming presence approach your left side.

“Should’ve known you’d copy me,” says a voice that you know all too well. Out of instinct, your head turns and you’re blessed with the sight of Brady, up close and personal. His dark hair, peppered with gray, is messy, styled that way, a strand falling lazily in his face—he looks more like James Dean than an angel, with the suave and confident demeanor. 

“I think I look way more angelic than you,” you say, eyeing the loosely buttoned linen top and expanse of his chest. He looks so effortlessly cool, the high-waisted, wide-legged ivory slacks hanging loosely as he’s leaned against the wall with an air of nonchalant swagger.

He watches you, a smug smile tugging at his lips. The beer bottle rests loosely between two fingers and his thumb. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

Your face grows hot at the callout and your eyes dart away, embarrassed. You’re sure he’s smirking now, feeling the burn from his gaze.

“You do look beautiful, though.”

Brady’s voice is lower as he says it, almost like he’s dropped the confident, playboy facade. You thank him shyly, and in the blink of an eye, the curtain’s back up, the smirk plastered back on his face.

“Where’s your man?” he asks casually. He might as well have been glancing at his nails, but you have the feeling his question is far from innocent.

“Think he’s out playing Spikeball on the patio,” you reply, head craning to try and spot him through the window. He’s exactly where you thought, grinning after slamming the ball into the net, fist bumping Marty in celebration. You smile.

“And he left you alone? Looking like that?”

You shoot Brady a glance, the bold flirtation alerting you to his potential motives. It is his birthday, after all, and you certainly gave him a birthday to remember last year. 

Your eyebrow raises. “What’s it to you?” 

“Well,” he says, slipping a hand into his pocket, “I know if you were my girl, I’d be fucking you over the counter in the bathroom right now, dressed like that.”

Heat floods your body, white hot and scorching straight through your bloodstream at his blunt words. You sip at your drink, desperate for something to alleviate the dryness in your throat. “That’s not very angelic of you to say, Saint Skjei.” 

“Aww, but baby, we both know you’re far from angelic. Don’t we?”

This time, in addition to the warmth on your cheeks, you also feel a deep throb between your legs. His words beckon a flashback of strong hands—4 of them—caressing your body, driving you to the height of pleasure; of the feeling of being so delightfully full. 

“Baby, come outside and—oh, shit, hey, Skjeisy,” Andrei’s deep voice echoes, veering from his path to you to give his teammate a clap on his back. “Birthday brother.”

Brady offers your boyfriend a wide grin and a clink of his bottle against Andrei’s glass. Your cheeks burn as they flank you, tall and looming and so large compared to you. The memory of last year’s celebration lingers, flooding your mind with a foggy heat that suddenly makes it a little bit hard to breathe.

“What’re you up to?” he asks, looking at you with a smile, like he can see the mist clouding your brain. “What’d I miss?”

“Just telling your beautiful girlfriend how fuckable she looks,” Brady says, unabashed. If you weren’t used to his antics by now, you’d be surprised at his boldness.

Andrei pauses for the briefest of moments, registering the implication behind his friend’s words before he’s turning to look at you, a mischievous expression on his face. “She does, doesn’t she?”

By now, your pulse is racing, practically sweating under the heated gaze of both men standing before you. You watch both of their eyes roving over your figure, undoubtedly envisioning filthy things; you wonder if either of them notice the way your pulse beats in your throat.

“Malyshka, tell him what I told you earlier tonight.” Andrei’s command is gentle, light-hearted, but there’s a longing behind them. 

Surging heat goes straight to your cheeks, burning at having to repeat Andrei’s words. You glance at him, and he nods encouragingly. So you swallow, murmuring, “Y-you said you were gonna fuck me how I deserved to be fucked tonight.”

Amusement flickers in Brady’s eyes, along with a blue flame that matches the one glowing inside you. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“Like the only girl lucky enough to fuck me on my birthday,” Andrei finishes for you. A statement of pride; pride in the ownership you have over him, too. 

The fire in Brady’s irises grows, burning bright. You watch an entire cinema of filthy thoughts run through his mind; you’re sure all three of you are thinking the same thing—it’s Brady’s birthday, too. And you are a lucky, lucky girl.

Tension is thick in your little triangle, almost like you’re sizing each other up. Andrei’s eyes dance to yours, and he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, whispering in your ear, “You want him to come home with us, dorogoy?”

Your gaze locks with Brady’s, who couldn’t have heard your boyfriend’s question, but looks like he’s waiting for your answer all the same. Keeping your eyes on his melted chocolate ones, your only reply is a subtle nod, and you feel Andrei’s smile against your cheek.

Twenty minutes later, you step into Andrei’s apartment after the world’s most excruciating Uber ride with the heat of Brady’s leg pressed against yours, his hand drawing slow, teasing circles on the inside of your thigh. Andrei had sat in the passenger seat, making idle conversation with the driver, Brady chiming in regularly, as if he wasn’t driving you into a slow descent into insanity. It was almost enough to make you mad, had you not been spending all of your effort trying not to make a mess on the Uber’s leather seats. 

You watch the way Brady’s eyes flare with heat when he follows the two of you into the kitchen, eyeing the quartz countertop. His eyebrow arches with a glance at Andrei, a silent message sent in the quiet of his apartment. The brunette slinks up beside you, a warm hand caressing your waist, and all at once you remember.

“I’d be fucking you over the counter in the bathroom right now, dressed like that.”

He catches your eye, a wink at you as if he knows you’re remembering his words. “So pretty.”

“So are you,” you whisper shyly. His lips curl into a grin, making him look even more handsome. 

Brady stalks closer to you, all too similar to a predator stalking its prey; the only thing missing is David Attenborough’s dulcet tones, narrating his actions like a wildlife documentary. Despite the itch in the tips of your fingers to touch his skin, to drag your hands through his hair, you back away from him until you’re caught between the kitchen island and his large, looming body. Andrei seems content to watch the scene in front of him play out, standing behind you on the opposite side of the island. 

“Wanna kiss you,” Brady says, voice barely above a whisper as his eyes move to your lips. Your throat bobs in anticipation as you feel the edge of the countertop pressed into your lower back, trapped between Brady’s body and the island. “Can I?”

You nod, but you see Brady’s eyes flick behind you, silently seeking approval from your boyfriend. Andrei must have given it, for the next moment, Brady’s smiling, hand moving to thread through the curls you’d styled earlier that day. His lips brush against yours, feather light, teasing, waiting.

The pause is agonizing, time momentarily standing still as your heart thuds against your chest before Brady finally, finally presses forward to kiss you fully. It’s sweet, far sweeter than the mischievous glint in his eye or the seductive lines he’d traced on your leg in the Uber; for a moment, he really is the angel he’s dressed as instead of the carefully hidden sinner’s persona.

It doesn’t take long for Brady to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands move from your waist to knead at the globes of your ass. His lips curl upward as he swallows your moan, lifting you easily to set you on the countertop. Warm hands slide up the front of your bare thighs, pushing the skirt of your dress up to reveal bare, sensitive skin.

The shift in position allows you to press your body into him, knees settling on either side of his hips as he steps between your legs. Your makeout gradually shifts from sweet and timid to passionate and scorching, whimpers slipping out of your throat as his hands slide the straps of your wings off your shoulders. 

Brady’s lips trail over your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine when his lips find the spot on your neck that makes your toes curl. Your head falls back, allowing him easier access to suck a mark into the tender skin. He places a hand behind your head, supporting your neck, guiding you slowly down onto your back.

The countertop is cool against your bare shoulders, your large, feathery wings no longer digging into your skin. You shiver, not from the temperature of the quartz, but the heat from Brady’s gaze as he tears his lips away from you, standing slowly. His hands blaze fire down your legs, trailing a fingertip lightly down your calf before grasping an ankle in each hand, making a slow show of spreading your legs. 

“Forgot you like to wear these little tiny things you call underwear,” he muses, running a thumb along the sodden lace covering your modesty. 

Andrei, no longer interested in sitting on the sidelines, lets his palm coast over your chest, over your breast, over the bunched up fabric from your skirt, feeling for himself what Brady describes. “You’re soaked already, malyshka.”

Already, just the touch of their hands on your body lights it on fire, and you sigh as Brady’s thumbs rub gentle circles into your calves. Your pulse quickens, nipples instantly hardening when Andrei pushes the top of your corset top down your torso, freeing your breasts. His hand offers a small reprieve from the cool air when it massages one of your breasts, humming approvingly at the way your spine arches into his touch.

“He’s good with his hands, isn’t he?” Brady coos.

You nod, and Andrei smirks at you. Lord knows how many times he’d brought you to a euphoric release with just his hands alone, skilled and strong and wicked in their promise. As if to prove the point, he pinches your peaked nipple between two fingers, earning a yelp from your mouth. But then his hand trails farther, two large fingers digging into the damp lace and tugging it to the side; you gasp quietly at the cool air that hits your most intimate area, the sound melding into more of a moan when you see the heat in Brady’s eyes as he gazes at your folds.

The dynamic is clear: Andrei, revealing you to his friend, presenting you on a platter—or, in this case, his kitchen counter.

“I didn’t get to taste you last time,” Brady comments, his voice low and husky. “Not really.”

Your core clenches at his words, anticipation buzzing through you. Brady smiles, licking his lips. Above you, Andrei nods once, and the brunette needs no more encouragement to sink lower until he’s eye-level with your cunt. He draws a finger through your center, collecting some of the dripping nectar with a click of his tongue.

“This for him,” he asks, jerking his head toward Andrei, who has resumed the gentle knead and massage of your breasts, “or me?”

Another pinch of your nipple has you whimpering. “Wh-who says it can’t be both?”

A low chuckle sounds from Brady’s throat, a smug smile curling up on his handsome face. “Knew you liked being shared, pretty girl, just didn’t know how much.”

He delves into your core like a man starved, long laves of his tongue ending with a flick against your sensitive clit. By instinct, your back arches and your hips raise to meet his mouth, seeking out more of the pleasure that blooms through your body as he presses his face against you. “So sweet, baby.”

Brady is good with his mouth, and he knows it. Expertly, he alters between flat licks of his tongue and sucking gently on your clit, with a precision only someone with experience can manage. It doesn’t take him long to remember what makes you tick, how you gush around his tongue when he slides it inside of you and fucks you with it. 

Just as the energy starts to build deep within you, you’re crying out when he abruptly tears himself away from you. “Brady—”

“Hmm?” he asks, sharing an amused look with Andrei. “What’s wrong?”

“Need—need your mouth.” You can’t help the whine that accompanies your words, the desperation that crawls under your skin.

“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” 

You lick your lips, guiltily glancing back to catch Andrei, an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk painted on his face. 

“He has a nice mouth,” you say, as if to justify your unrestrained desire for the man who isn’t your boyfriend. 

Andrei hums. “So do you, kisa. Can you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Lay your head back for me.”

You do as told, and Andrei tugs you toward him a few inches so your head is leaning off of the countertop. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

Andrei leans down to kiss you, soft and slow, and you sigh into him, the familiarity of his mouth helping to alleviate some of your nerves; the pulse between your legs is all but forgotten under his attention. As he pulls away, he purses his lips, dropping a long, thick wad of saliva into your open mouth. You feel the slow drip of it against your tongue, slipping down your throat as you swallow obediently. 

“Khoroshaya deovochka,” he murmurs as he stands to his full height. Good girl.

The praise makes your nipples tighten as you shiver. You can feel Brady’s hot breath on your inner thigh, can feel the heat from his gaze as he takes in the sight of your open, wet, waiting core. His lips against your skin makes you jolt slightly, a sigh breathed out against Andrei’s tip pressed against your lips.

“God, I missed eating this pretty pussy,” Brady says, his tongue flitting against your entrance, teasing you. You can feel the way your pussy throbs under his attention, like she knows she’s mere moments away from relief.

Andrei chuckles lowly, his eyes no doubt stuck on the brunette working his way between your thighs. Your own throat bobs in anticipation, waiting for Andrei to push his tip past your lips and into your open mouth.

Then, as if following a countdown that only they could hear, Brady’s fingers broach your eager entrance, simultaneous with the gentle push of Andrei’s length to meet your tongue. Swiftly, steadily, they fill you up with a practiced precision that makes your toes curl, the sensation so complete and fulfilling—pun intended. 

Your Russian is patient, feeling the gasp as Brady works another finger into you before his hand slips into your hair, holding your neck steady while he presses his hips forward. He tests his own restraint, inching in and out while your mouth and throat accommodate and adjust to his size, your tongue flatting against the top of him.

Brady’s mouth joins his fingers, sure to catch the slick pooling around your entrance; he probes and teases with the tip of his tongue, taking his time to re-learn what makes your spine arch and the breath catch in your throat. He groans, exhaling lowly against your center, eyes fluttering closed as he savors the taste of you.

“So fucking sweet. Svech, do me a favor and fuck her face a little harder so I can feel her gush on my tongue.”

“Aye aye,” Andrei says with a smirk, a mock salute before his other hand is placed on the other side of your neck, stabilizing your face before he gently picks up the pace of his thrusts. Your eyes water at the intrusion, at the different angle of his cock in your throat, breathing steadily through your nose.

Soon enough, your boyfriend has a consistent rhythm, and any whine you want to let out is blocked by his length lodged in your airway. He hums, smugness dripping from his voice, “Love watching the outline of my cock in your throat, kisa. You take me so well.”

The praise alone makes heat surge to your core, right into Brady’s eager mouth, and he moans, choking out, “That’s it, baby.”

His pace picks up, directly correlating to the flutter in your belly, to Brady’s tongue and fingers working in tandem to drive you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips roll against his face, seeking out that delicious friction that will have you hurtling into euphoria. His head is too far to reach with your arms, so you occupy your hands by taking to your breasts, massaging and tweaking at your nipples while Andrei continues his rough thrusts. Streaks of saliva marr your face, frothy and wet, leaving filthy evidence on his usually pristine kitchen floor.

For a fleeting second, you wonder what this must look like; you, spread wide and waiting on your boyfriend’s counter, getting stuffed at both ends by two handsome, talented men, both eager to drive you to your peak. It’s the image of your body between them that has your release barreling through you, a choked groan sounding out despite the intrusion in your throat. Brady groans, mingled curses and praises slipping out while he works you through the waves of your climax.

Andrei doesn’t let up, not until Brady’s pulling away from the apex of your thighs, the scar on his chin coated with your orgasm. He helps you up, admiring the swell of your lips and the tear tracks on your face before he smiles and presses a wet, musky kiss against your lips. “So pretty. Even prettier when your face is a mess like this.”

“You wanna take her cunt this time? My treat.” Andrei asks with a grin wide enough to reveal his missing tooth.

“I’d be honored,” Brady says with a mock nod of his head, his eyes flicking to yours with a mischievous grin.

“C’mon, malyshka,” Andrei murmurs, lifting you easily in his arms to take you into the bedroom. He deposits you on the bed, positioning you to leave room for Brady to follow and kneel before you. Your eyes draw to the bulge in his pants, the thin fabric doing little to hide his modesty as Andrei helps you to remove what’s left of your costume.

“You want it?” he asks in a teasing tone. 

“You got to taste me,” you say, blinking up at him. “It’s only fair I get to return the favor.”

Andrei sniggers at your quick remark. “So eager, my pretty little slut.”

The name sends heat coursing through your body, radiating particularly between your legs. Brady moves to remove his expensive trousers, and soon, you’re presented with a mouth-watering view of his very impressive, very erect length. Your tongue slips out to lick your lips, eager to feel the weight of him in your mouth.

Of course, Brady can’t resist teasing you, gripping himself loosely as he taps his tip against your cheek. Your mouth opens, impatient, but he doesn’t give you what you want; not yet. Instead, he drags the head across your lips, slow, teasing, agonizing. 

“What a good girl,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself, but then he winks at you. “So obedient.”

Brady’s instruction is simple, just a soft, “tongue out,” before he’s running his tip over it, pressing himself firmly against your tongue. You sigh out at the taste of him, precum already dripping onto your waiting taste buds, earnestly wrapping your lips around his tip as you take him into your mouth.

Beside you, Andrei draws the slightest attention back to himself by divesting himself of his clothes, dropping unceremoniously to the floor. You feel a warm, large hand running along the curve of your ass, giving the flesh a squeeze before his fingers probe lightly at your entrance, testing the slickness he finds there. 

As you work at Brady’s length, jaw opening wider to fit more of him into your mouth, Andrei’s hand slides up just a few inches higher, and all at once the agreement from earlier sinks in.

If Brady was going to fuck your pussy, then that means��

Almost like he’s reading your mind, Andrei chuckles behind you when you gasp with realization. Not long after, the pad of his finger presses gently against the tight bud, teasing and prodding. For a brief moment, you tear yourself away from Brady to crane your head, just in time to see Andrei spitting onto his fingers, coating them with his saliva before bringing his hand back down to your backside. He smirks at you, then winks at Brady as his first finger teases you, your mouth falling open at the feeling—not enough.

But Brady clears his throat, not pleased with the lack of attention, and his hand gently turns your head back to face him. “Back to work, sweet girl.”

Ever eager to serve, you do as you’re told, only this time, you moan around Brady’s length as Andrei presses the tip of his finger past the puckered ring. Slowly, he eases it in, carefully testing the depth with slow, gentle pulses as your body relaxes to the foreign sensation. Your tongue lolls against Brady, whimpering as you do your best to stay focused on him.

Whether it’s to help you or just to show some dominance, you aren’t sure, but soon Brady’s hand is threading through your hair, gripping it into a ponytail at the base of your skull. Slowly, he pushes your head forward, watching the way his length slides between your lips. The beautiful brown of his eyes lock with yours, monitoring your reaction as he gradually increases the pace. His hold is firm, the tug on your hair just hard enough to have you shivering.

Soon enough, he’s fucking your throat, and Andrei’s eased two fingers into you, priming you for what’s to come. Spit, drool, and tears track your face, a frothy mixture pooling at your lips when Brady finally pulls out. He smiles, admiring his handiwork. “Love that throat of yours.”

Andrei hums behind you, his thumb brushing against your clit and nearly making you jump. “Baby, you’re dripping. You like when Brady fucks that pretty mouth?”

You nod, licking your lips with a smile. Brady winks at you. “Love fucking all of your holes, darlin’.”

A fresh wave of heat gushes between your legs, accompanied by a slap to your ass and a Russian curse. His fingers flex inside of you gently working you open. “Get to it, then,” you challenge him.

“Aw, baby, I’m flattered,” he says with another smug smile. “But I think I want to watch that pretty boyfriend of yours fuck your pretty little ass first.”

Your heart flutters at his words, and you turn to look at Andrei as he’s retrieving his bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer. The liquid is cold on your skin, warmed quickly by his hand, finger pressing into you. He eases you open, adding another finger, and then another, until he deems you ready for his more than considerable length. 

“Ready, malyshka?”

You cast a glance at Brady, who smirks at you with darkened eyes, like the sight of you on your hands and knees and three fingers in your ass is nearly sending him over the edge. “Fuck me, Drei.”

When Andrei presses into you, you wince at the stretch as you adjust to the sensation. He sucks in a breath, murmuring a low curse in Russian. Gripping your sides, his hands squeeze tightly as he waits patiently for your approval to keep going.

Brady hums as he greedily drinks in the sight of you. He murmurs low, filthy promises to you, watching intently as Andrei patiently pushes deeper; your mouth falls open as your body adjusts to the stretch, his more-than-adequate width nearly enough to make your eyes cross. 

“Doin’ so good for me,” is Andrei’s gentle purr, groaning as he starts low, shallow thrusts. Your fingers grip into the bedsheets, gasping out. By the time he’s thrusting at a steady pace, tears are already pricking at your eyes from how blissfully sinful it feels, his tip directly nudging into the spot that makes you see stars. 

Andrei fucks you thoroughly, until you’re a mumbling, shaking mess. Your body arches as his large hand traces its way down your spine, coming to rest at the base of your neck; he presses you down into the mattress, just slightly, just enough to make your breathing a bit more labored. He leans forward, too, and you cry out when the action shifts his cock even deeper inside of you. Lips dot gentle kisses against your shoulder blades, accompanied by slow, shallow thrusts as your body trembles beneath him.

“Come,” is all he says; a command and a plea all at once. He doesn’t have to say anything else, only keep his movements steady until you cry out loudly as your release radiates through every bone in your body.

Your Russian is patient, coaxing out the final waves of your orgasm as your thighs tremble from the force of it. Brain foggy, you register the feeling of fingers carding through your hair, soothing you as your vision begins to come back to you. Soon enough, you float back into reality and Andrei smiles, warm enough to feel your heart start to melt at the sight.

“C’mere,” he says, wrapping his arms solidly around you and falling onto his back, bringing you with him. Brady’s figure steps between your legs, large and looming, his eyes glued to where Andrei’s cock is still stuffed deep inside your hole. All at once, the warmth in your heart quickly turns back into desire, and your core flutters.

“You gonna fuck me, too?” Your voice is laced with challenge, a teasing lilt in your tone. 

“You want me to fuck you?” Brady quips, a dark eyebrow raised in amusement. “Want me to fuck this tight little cunt?”

“S’your birthday gift,” you say, and Andrei chest shakes with a chuckle beneath your back. Brady smiles, his eyes dragging to the place in question, spread open and waiting for him.

“Lucky me,” is his hummed response, moving his hand forward to rub a slow circle over your clit with his thumb. You whine, and Andrei pinches your sides in a silent command, holding you steady. He presses a kiss against your shoulder, his weight solid and strong beneath you—holding your body up without any effort, it seems. One of the many, many benefits of having a boyfriend who is a Big Boy.

Brady snaps your attention back to him when he steps closer to the apex of your thighs, fisting his erection as he lines himself up. His eyes, brown and molten, are transfixed on the way the tip of his cock slips into your eager and waiting entrance; he lets out a grunt at the feeling of your tight heat wrapped around him.

You, on the other hand, are completely speechless—you’ve forgotten how to speak entirely, only nonsensical babbling slipping from your mouth. The feeling has you unable to focus on any one thing, consumed by how fucking good it feels to have both of them buried deep.

The two men work in sync, wordless, the same silent telepathy that they used earlier. In. Out. In. Out. Pleasure blossoms between your legs, tingly and warm as it spreads through your core, up your limbs, to the tips of your fingers and toes; you aren’t sure where you end and they begin.

“Kisa,” Andrei’s deep voice rumbles beneath you, murmuring lowly in your ear. “Feel good?”

You open your mouth to reply—yes, God, yes—but all that comes out is a jumbled moan, lilted higher when Brady presses in just that little bit deeper. He laughs, thumbs gripping your thighs tightly as he holds you open. “You kidding, Svech? Your girl loves being stuffed full of dick. These slutty little holes are drooling all over us.”

Brady’s words earn a low flutter—whether in your belly or in another area, you aren’t quite sure—but based on the growl that slips from Andrei, you’re inclined to believe the latter. His hand slinks up your side to massage at your breast, the other branding fingertip-shaped marks into your hip. “That true, dorogoy?”

Because your brain is in the process of being fucked into mush, it’s all you can do to nod, a weak, “Yes” tumbling out of your mouth. His breath is hot against your shoulder, murmurs of Russian curses low in your ear. “How lucky am I, huh? My gorgeous girl, treating me and my friend so good on our birthday.”

The deep purr of praise is like a catalyst to the heat in your veins, setting it ablaze through every cell in your body. Your back arches off of Andrei’s warm torso, and this time you’re sure that you clench tightly around both of them.

“Drei,” you sigh, “please.”

“Please, what?”

“C-come… make me… c-come—”

Brady smiles while his thumb resumes the same steady, circular motion on your clit, like he can’t decide if he’s amused or turned on at your desperate plea. For Andrei, though, it’s no laughing matter; suddenly, his thrusts become even steadier, more sure. He’s determined, hips setting a metronome that contrasts Brady’s pace, speeding up ever so slightly.

When your climax hits, it’s like time stands still: your breath, frozen in your lungs, mouth open in a silent scream, a snapshot taken just as the fire ignites at the place where Andrei and Brady meet inside of you. Your body tenses, spine rigid as your legs begin to shake in Brady’s strong hands, doing little to absorb the ripple effect of your orgasm. 

“Shiiiiit,” the brunette groans, amid the mish mash of Russian and English pouring from Andrei’s mouth as his hips slow to a halt, content to feel the way your body writhes and reacts to him. 

“Think we need to do this more often,” Andrei says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice; you can see it reflected in Brady’s eyes, predatory, devouring the sight of you below him. He doesn’t need to voice his agreement out loud; it’s clear in the way he can barely resist pulling out of you to help you onto shaky feet, then to your knees on the floor.

With a blink, your gaze floats up between Andrei and Brady, standing over you, each fisting their lengths, glistening with you. Your hands dance their way up your body, brushing your hair out of the way before returning to cup your breasts. “Happy birthday, boys.”

Brady’s eyes darken and Andrei allows a low growl at the sight of you, your breasts pressed together like the sexiest canvas they’ll ever see. Both of them work their hand over their dicks, varying in speed but sharing the same intensity—the same kind of unrestrained desperation, stretching themselves for the final sprint to the finish line.

Andrei’s deep groan comes first, ropes of his release splattering across your decolletage, dripping down into the cleavage you offer. A sharp curse from Brady’s mouth precedes his own peak, cum landing on your chin before sliding down and dripping onto your chest. Your boyfriend’s eyes glitter, watching the drips meld together into a mixture of one.

Without a word, Andrei steps toward you, crouching slightly to run his hands across your chest, gathering some of the cum onto his fingers. His eyes lock with yours and, in silent reply to his silent question, your mouth opens obediently, allowing him to press his first and middle past your lips, pressing onto your tongue.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” Brady says, voice a combination of a chuckle and a groan. You suck on his digits, swallowing the salty mixture of them with a flourish.

“Angel,” Andrei muses, making sure you lap every last bit of cum off of his fingers. “She’s an angel.”

———

Bonus mini scene inspired by this video:

That weekend, you’re scrolling on social media when the Canes pregame video pops up. It autoplays, and your eye immediately catches the salt and pepper hair, your heart fluttering a little bit at the sight. Then Andrei’s on the screen, and you’re smiling at seeing him feeling so confident and in his element—he’s where he belongs. 

But then you hear Brady say, “What a night!” followed by a loud laugh from Andrei, and your heart stops. They wouldn’t…

It takes another few replays to hear that Brady also says, “It’s a pleasure.”

When Andrei gets home later that night, high from a shutout win and clinching an official playoff spot, his wide smile fades slightly at the sight of you on the bed with your arms folded over your chest. 

“Wh–?”

“Tell me what you whispered to Brady before the game,” you say, a glint in your eye. 

Your boyfriend pauses, reflecting, then smirks when the memory comes back to him. His eyes flick to yours and his eyebrow raises. “You really wanna know?”

A pointed look is your only reply. 

“I told him you still can’t walk today.”

SIMILAR CONTENT:

Sundress Season* Glittery* A Night in Paris*

#andrei svechnikov fic #brady skjei fic #hockey fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fic #andrei svechnikov x reader #brady skjei x reader #hockey smut #nhl smut

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Raw

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & KO / @thirteenisles

Tagging: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @hoesforthecanes @hockeywritingcollection

Relationship: Andrei x Kat

Warning: Smut. Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids). Cum play

Summary: Flashback to the first time Kat and Andrei fuck without a condom.

Word Count: 5.8k

Comments: Tiff and Katie asked for more Kat and Drei, so they get more Kat and Drei! (Also I know we’re all secretly happy sad that the Canes are eliminated so here’s a little something to cheer people up) Hope you guys enjoy!!! 

(c) nat g. 2023 // do not repost, do not claim as your own

March 2022

No matter what, if Andrei wasn’t playing on a Friday or Saturday night and he was home, they always had a movie night. Kat always looked forward to those days, getting Andrei all to herself after a long week of hockey, one of the few days she didn’t have to share him with the city of Raleigh, not that she was complaining, they both loved the city, the fans, and their passion. But it was nice to have him all to herself.

This week they were watching What’s Your Number. Kat picked it out. Andrei wasn’t exactly paying attention but he grasped it was another romcom. How could he pay attention when Kat was in nothing more than a pair of his boxers and one of his Canes shirts he outgrew and it had been over a week since he last felt her sweet pussy around his cock.

They had been on the road and when he tried to sneak out to see Kat in the middle of the night Jordo had walked him back to his room. He tried desperately to convince Jordo to let him go, but there was no negotiating with him. It was the night before a back to back and Jordo didn’t need their star up all night because his girl worked for the team.

But the joke was on Jordo because he was up late anyway sexting Kat all the things he was going to do to her once they got back to Raleigh.

But, because the universe was a cruel being, he strained his groin during the second half of the back to back. It wasn’t bad, just a tweak, but Kat shooed off his every advance since.

“You need rest,” she said.

“I don’t want you to over work yourself,” she said.

“It would be worth it, Kisa,” he said, but she wouldn’t have it.

Which brought them to Friday, spending their night off watching What’s Your Number on her living room couch, more than a week since the last time he had her.

It was a good movie, or good background sound anyway. He saw it out of the corner of his eye as he watched Kat. Her skin was warm as he rested his hand on her knee before dragging it upward, his thumb rubbing soft circles. He was young, wound tight from hockey, and he finally got the girl he had been after since he entered the league, of course every chance he got he was going to try to get some.

She had picked the movie, but it was secondary to him. Everything was always secondary to him. They had been together, officially, for just over a year, but, God, she could never get enough of him. It was crazy how she could go from indifferent toward him to insatiable. But he had truly and irreversibly wiggled his way into her life.

Not that Kat complained as she let her legs part a little more to give him more room, which he greedily accepted as he trailed his hand higher on her thigh till he found the edge of his own boxers.

“Drei,” she whined softly, her voice was like honey. “We’re supposed to be watching the movie.”

“I’m watching something better,” he hummed, his accent thick before he leaned in and softly kissed the exposed skin of her neck. She smelt like the vanilla bodywash she had been using and he wanted to drown himself in her scent. Kat tilted her head to give him more room and she hummed softly, her eyes fluttering close. “It’s been too long,” he added, even if it hadn’t been, his voice muffled by her skin.  

“Well, that’s not my fault,” she replied. “You’ve been sore from the game.”

“I’m not sore anymore,” he told her and nipped at her jaw before he smoothed it over with his tongue.

She let out a soft moan before she turned towards him and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she straddled his lap, pressing her hips into his. “No? You’re not sore anymore?” She asked and brushed her lips over his, humming as she teased him.

He caught her lips in a proper kiss, shamelessly gripping her ass to pull her closer as he moaned into the kiss. “Not even a little bit.”

She rolled her hips against him. “That’s good,” she hummed before kissing him deeply. He was never going to get enough of her lips and his fingers dug into her ass as he tried to pull her closer. She was his girl. His woman.

Kat could feel it as he hardened beneath her and she continued to grind down on his cock, moaning into his mouth the harder he got. “Sure you’re still watching the movie, sólnyshka?” He teased and his lip twitched up as he slipped the tips of his fingers past the band of her shorts.

“What movie?” She replied with a smirk before she nipped at his bottom lip, and he breathed a laugh before he kissed her again, gently kneading her ass.

Kat was gentle as she gentle dragged her nails down the back of his neck and she giggled when he shivered, but her giggle turned into a breathy moan as he brushed his fingers over her clothed pussy. It was his turn to chuckle as he slowly rubbed her, feeling the heat of her through the shorts, his shorts. “What? Not laughing anymore, sólnyshka?”

“Right there, Drei,” Kat moaned softly, her nails softly digging into his skin.

“Oh, here?” His touch was light and he purposely ignored her clit, wanting her to beg for it. Kat, his Kat, was so strong and assertive and he loved when she told him just how much she wanted him, just how much she needed him.

She kissed him again, rocking her hips against his hand as she tried to move his fingers to where she wanted them most. He bit her lower lip hard enough to make her whine and smirked as he releases it, “tell me where, sólnyshka.”

“Touch my clit, Andrei,” she whined. “Please.”

He hummed as he smirked and leaned back to give himself more room before he slipped his hand into the front of her shorts. He groaned at how wet she was, running his fingers over her slit before he rubbed soft, lazy circles on her clit. “Fuck, you are so wet for me.”

“Only for you, Andrei,” she moaned. He was the only man that could make her feel this good.

“I need to taste you,” he groaned as he circled his finger over her entrance. “Been too long since I’ve had my mouth on your sweet pussy; spent the whole roadie dreaming of your taste, Kisa.”

“Yeah?” She bit her lip, “you know what I want from you?”

“What, Kisa?” He hummed, just barely pressing his finger into her as he ate her alive with his eyes.

She leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear, her voice soft as honey, “I want you to cum inside me tonight.”

He froze and his jaw went slack as his cock throbbed. She didn’t— He had to have heard her wrong. Fuck the thought alone had him squeezing his eyes shut with a moan as he imagined how warm and wet and perfect she would be around his bare cock. “Kat,” his voice was broken. “You’re serious?”

“Very much so,” she whispered and pulled back to look at him, dragging her nails down the back of his neck. “I want to feel you, all of you. I want to feel you cum inside me, want you to fill me up till it leaks out,” her voice was soft as she twirled a piece of his hair between her fingers.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled in Russian before he kissed her deeply, tangling his fingers in her hair to pull her closer. “You feel what you do to me, Kisa? Feel how hard you make me?”

“Yes,” she breathed as she rocked against him. “Fuck, yes, I do.”

“Fuck, all I want is to sink into you and fuck you right now, feel your sweet perfect pussy around my cock. But no.” He had to taste her first and he pulled his hand from her shorts and lifted them to her mouth, brushing her wetness over her lips. She wrapped her lips around his fingers, her eyes fluttering shut as she sucked them clean. “Good girl,” he murmured before he kissed her deeply, licking the taste of her off her tongue.

She moaned into the kiss, rolling her hips against his, “take me to bed, Andrei.” He didn’t need to be told twice and he easily stood up, both hands on her ass as he carried her to bed to have his way with her.

“Oh—” Kat gasped when Andrei dropped her on the bed. He looked at her for half a second before he slipped his fingers into the band of her shorts and pulled them down her legs and he groaned when he finally got his eyes on her. It really had been too long.

His shirt was next to go and he tossed it aside before he knelt between her legs and pushed her shirt up. He was never going to get tired of just looking at her, she was so beautiful. His gaze alone makes her shiver in delight. He always made her feel wanted. His touch was gentle as he ran his hand up her calf. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured and kissed just above her knee.

“So are you, Andrei,” she said and she propped her head up a pillow so she could see him better.

He sucked a mark onto her inner thigh and smoothed it over with his tongue before he looked up at her, “you think I’m beautiful?”

“Beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, handsome,” she listed as she ran her fingers through his hair, and he was quick to kiss her inner wrist.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered in Russian and kissed her before she could question what he said. Her Russian was getting better, but some things would remain secret, even if she hated his little Russian secrets. “Should I give you another hatty?” He asked against her lips. “Make you nice and wet for my cock?”

“Whatever you want Andrei. I’m yours,” she replied and tried to pull him closer.

“Okay, Kisa,” he kissed her again before he began to trail his lips down her throat to her chest. He knew she didn’t like visible marks, but he left one about her collarbone before he trailed his tongue down her chest and around her nipple. “Fuck your breasts,” he groaned and playfully nipped at the soft flesh.

She let out a loud whine, “oh god.” He was so attentive and made her feel like she was on fire in the best way and when he looked up at her with those dark eyes she literally melted.

“Just me, Kisa,” he smirked and flattened his tongue over her nipple before he blew softly. “You should stop wearing clothes around the apartment.”

“But then I’d never get any work done,” her voice was breathy as she tried to laugh.

“Oh, I think we’d get plenty done,” he smirked and took her nipple between his lips and he used his fingers to give her other equal attention. His hands were so big they completely cover her breasts but he loved it, he loved every inch of her body from the beauty marks on her face, to the freckles on her chest, the dimples in her thighs, and scars on her knees. He loved every part of her. Every part of her was perfect and he was thankful to have any piece of her. He was always going to show her just how much he loved and appreciated her and he sucked gently on her nipple before he switched sides, ensuring they received equal attention.

“Fuck, Drei…” she moaned his name softly. She felt herself get even more wet as he worshipped her breasts.

He moaned against her skin, eyes closed as he focused, grinding his hips into the bed to get a little relief for himself. She made him so hard, she always had. He had been into her since day one, she drove him crazy in the best ways. But now that he had won her over, she felt the same. She couldn’t get enough of Andrei.

Slowly he pulled back and dragged the trip of his tongue down her stomach as he settled between her legs. He’d spend all day and night there if she let him. He blew over her clit and chuckled when she whined, “you are so wet for me.”

“Only for you,” she told him quickly. He was the only one who could get her worked up like this.

“Only me,” he repeated and bit her inner thigh hard enough to mark. His, he thought.

She gasped, but he soothed it over with his tongue before he eyed her pussy, the corner of his lips twitching up. He looked up at her and pursed his lips before he spat on it. She didn’t need it, she was wet enough, but he always loved the sound that left her mouth and the way she flushed when he spat on her pretty little pussy.

It was a half strangled gasp and half moan that left her lips and she arched her back as she reached down to thread her fingers through his hair. “Drei,” she moaned and tried to push his head down.

“Patience, Kisa,” he told her, looking up at her again as he slowly licked up her slit. She tossed her head back as she moaned loudly and she didn’t mean to, but her legs closed around his head as he circled the tip of his tongue around her clit.

It would be an honour to be suffocated by her, he thought, face buried against her pussy. Not a bad way to go at all.

She tugged his hair and reached behind her to grip the pillow, needing something more to hold onto. No one ate pussy like Andrei Svechnikov. No one.

His eyes closed as he focused on her clit and only on her clit, swirling his tongue around her bud as he sucked softly, driving her absolutely crazy before he dipped his head down to fuck her with his tongue, nose buried in her sweet cunt so the only thing he could taste and smell was her. It was obscene the things he could do with his mouth. And moaned against her like she was a meal sent from heaven just for him, enjoying it almost as much as she was.

She ground her hips against him and he only pulled her closer as he tried to bury his tongue deeper in her, his hands gripping her thighs, digging his fingers into her skin. Andrei loved to mark her up, loved to litter her skin with reminders of who made her feel good, who worshipped her body. He wanted everyone to know she was his, that he was hers.

It wasn’t like they weren’t so obviously together. Everyone knew she was his, but he just loved seeing the bruised road map of what he did to her the night before; he loved to retrace his lips over the marks the next day and remind her that he was the only one who could make her feel this good, and that no other man could or would.

Slowly he looked up at her, his brown eyes darker with lust. His cock was aching to be in her, but he wanted her to cum on his tongue first, needed her to cum on his tongue first. She was close, he could feel it as she fluttered around his tongue. “Oh, God, Andrei, please, baby,” she got out between broken moans.

He hummed against her and switched back to focusing on her clit, sucking as he traced the tip of his tongue over the bud just the way she liked. “Oh fuck— oh fuck.” Her moans got louder the closer she got until she came hard, her grip tightening on his hair as she rolled her hips against his mouth, moaning so loud it echoed in the room.

Andrei groaned as he felt her cum against him and he slowed his tongue to draw it out, his eyes closed in concentration. He truly would never get enough of her taste. He could drown in her cum and it wouldn’t be enough. When her grip loosened on his hair, he forced her legs wider and dipped his tongue down to gather her cum and he moaned louder at the sweet taste of her before he focused back on her clit. One wasn’t enough for him. One was never enough for Andrei, he needed at least three or maybe even four. He needed to have her shaking and pussy sensitive from his tongue.

“Jesus, fuck, Andrei,” she moaned and tried to close her legs out of sensitivity, but he was so much stronger than her and he pulled back as he forced her thighs open, a smirk playing on his cum coated lips before he pinched her clit between his fingers, making her squeal. “Oh fuck no— Ah—” was all she managed to get out because she was so sensitive and he knew how easily it would be to make her cum again.

“No?” He repeated and pinched her clit again with a smirk, his tongue darting out to lick over her cum coating his lips.

She gripped the sheets underneath her, so incredibly close and when he did it again, she came with a loud “fuck!”

He swallowed as he watched her and slowly rubbed her clit to draw her high out. “Again? So quickly? Oh, Kisa,” he hummed but he smirked as he watched her with hungry eyes.

Her thighs shook from the intensity of it and she bit her lip and whimpered, “so sensitive.”

“So soon?” He teased. He had only given her two and he knew she was capable of many, many more than that. Kat nodded, her skin flushed, but he wasn’t done with her, not yet, and he continued to softly rub her clit as he looked up at her.

She could feel her high building again from his lazy rubbing of her clit and she whined softly, her hips bucking into his hand. It was good, but she needed him to fuck her, needed him to fill her up.

“Andrei please,” she begged and he laughed against her thigh before he bit it again, leaving another mark in her soft perfect skin.

“Tell me what you need baby? Tell me what you want?” He knew exactly what she was after, but he wanted to hear her say it again.

“For you to fuck me,” she begged, lifting her hips. “I want to feel you.”

“Yeah? Want my cock in your tight little pussy, sólnyshka?” He bit the inside of her other thigh, happy to cover her in reminders of him.

Her voice caught in her throat before she nodded. It was a wonder she once considered herself to be a dominant before he ruined her. “I need your cock,” she told him breathlessly.

“And I need my hatty,” he hummed as he continued to rub her clit. Just as soon as she gave him another. She was so soft and wet under his touch and he quickened his fingers as he laid his other arm over her hips to keep her still.

She came with no warning, tugging his hair as she struggled against the arm over her hips as she clenched around nothing. “Please,” she whined as she rocked her hips up. “Want to feel your thick cock, Drei. Want to feel you cum and fill me up.”

He crawled back up to her, wrapping his hand around her throat, and he smirked as she arched into him, her eyes momentarily fluttering shut. “And you’ll get to feel it, you’ll get to feel all of me,” he told her and pressed his hips to hers as he kissed her deeply.

She moaned loudly into his mouth. It was the most she had ever felt him. He usually pulled back to get a condom, giving her but a moment of his cock resting against her, but not this time. This time it was a promise for what was the come and she hooked her leg around his hip and pulled him closer.

He rutted against her as he controlled the kiss. “Mine, all mine,” he muttered between kisses, his cock easily gliding between her folds.

“All yours,” she agreed and roughly gripped his shoulders, dragging her nails across his skin. “Andrei, please.”

“I got you baby, I got you.” He kissed Kat again before he sat up, wrapping his hand around his cock and he stroked himself a few times before he tapped his cock against her clit. “You ready?”

She nodded and reached down to cover his hand with hers to guide him to her entrance, fluttering at the feeling of his tip against her. He slowly pressed into her, his eyes rolling back as he swore in Russian. It was so much better than using a condom, she was so tight, warm, and wet and fuck—

He really had to think of something, anything, else because he’d cum too soon.

Her leg tightened around his hip and she moaned loudly as she fluttered around him. There was no barrier between them, just them, just him, buried deep inside her. Her nails dug into his shoulder as she tried to pull him closer. Even nothing between them wasn’t enough, she needed him closer.

He gripped her leg and hiked it over his hip to get himself deeper, moaning as she clenched around him and he started thrusting slow and deep, his eyes closed as he focused on the feeling of her alone.

“Yes, God yes,” she cried, her back arching as she closed her eyes. He filled her in the best ways, in the most indescribable ways.

“Fuck.” He could barely think of anything other than how good she felt around him. He muttered in Russian how good and perfect she was. She could only understand bits and pieces, but she opened her eyes and her pussy clenched at the sight of him. Andrei’s chest was flushed, his eyes squeezed shut, and his lips parted as he moaned, completely lost in the feeling of her. It was the hottest thing she had ever seen.

She couldn’t help but pull him closer and kiss him deeply, moaning into his mouth. “Feel so good, Drei,” she told him dreamily. “So fucking good.”

“Kisa, you feel like a fucking dream,” he groaned, kissing her again. He’d never tire of her lips.  

She moaned in agreement and bit at his bottom lip. She loved how absolutely wrecked he is. “You gonna cum for me, Drei? Gonna cum in my pussy?”

“Not until you cum first,” he replied and bit at her bottom lip, watching as it slapped back against her. “I wanna feel you cum around my cock.”

She nodded and trailed her hand down to her clit but before she could touch herself, Andrei knocked her hand away to rub her clit, groaning as she clenched around him. He was so close and he bit his lip to control himself. She needed to cum first. He needed to know the feeling of her cumming on his cock.

“Come on, Kisa. I want you to cum, want to feel your pretty pussy cum around my cock. Want to see the bliss on your face and hear my name rolling off your tongue,” his voice was breathy as he thrusted harder, deeper.

Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders and he knew they’d leave a mark but he didn’t care, he loved it, loved when she got possessive over him enough to mark him. “Don’t stop,” she told him breathlessly. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, not gonna stop till you’re cumming around my cock and I’m filling you with my cum and—” he cut himself off with a bite of his tongue. For a brief moment he couldn’t help but think and knock you up.

His hips stuttered as he thought it, eyes momentarily dropping down her body. Kat could see it in his eyes and it sent her over the edge, her nails raking down his back as she came hard, her eyes rolling back with a long moan of his name.

Andrei squeezed his eyes shut and his hips stuttered as she clenched around him, her cum dripping down his balls, but he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. She will always cum first. Always.

She could feel her high start to roll into another and she dug her heel into his lower back to try to get him closer. “Fill me up, Drei,” she moaned, her voice breathless in his ear.

He leaned down and kissed her lazily, so close it only took a few more thrusts before his hips stuttered and he filled her up with his cum. He moaned loudly into her mouth and she hungrily swallowed it and she tried to pull him closer as she came again, moaning just as loud as she fluttered around him. She was so warm, so full, so good, he thought, and when he broke the kiss to rest his forehead on her shoulder, his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

Kat was gentle as she rubbed his shoulders. “God,” he groaned as he rested more of his weight on her.

“Feel good?” She laughed softly and gently ran her fingers through his hair.

“So good,” he agreed and he kisses her softly. “You’re so good.”

Kat smiled into the kiss, “you liked it a lot?”

He could only hum. He’d stay in her all night if she let him, but he didn’t want to crush her, so, as much as he didn’t want to, he gently pulled out, both of them wincing at the loss. “I loved it,” he told her.

She frowned at the loss of him and when he rolled onto his back, she rolled with him, pressing herself up against his thigh. “I did too,” she confessed.

“I think we’ll have to do it again… in about… ten minutes,” he grinned cheekily next to her.

“Ten minutes?” She bit her lip and lightly ran her nail down his chest, smirking as his muscles clenched under her touch. “You’re slacking. I thought one of the pros to dating younger was a fast rebound time.”

“Listen woman…” he gripped her chin and made her looks at him. “Your pussy is magic and sometimes it quite literally drains me away so maybe I need a few extra minutes.” Kat scrunched her nose up in disagreement, but it didn’t last long as he slid his hand down in between them, the tips of his fingers brushing her clit. “But that just means I have to pay you more attention in the meantime.”

Kat’s smirk fell as he brushed her clit with the tips of his rough finger. She was really sensitive and his fingers were big and rough and she instinctively rolled onto her back to give him more space, but he wasn’t after her clit. No, he shifted down till he was between her legs and he smirked as he looked up at her. His cum was leaking out of her. “Well we can’t have this…” he said before he scooped their cum on his fingers and pressed it back into her. “Gotta keep this inside you.”

Her breath caught in a gasp and she clenched around his fingers. He didn’t want her to waste his cum. And just when she thought he couldn’t get any hotter he proved her wrong as he licked his lips and he looked up at her, “can’t have it go to waste, right, Kisa?”

“No, we can’t,” she agreed and let her legs fall open more. She bit her lip as she watched him, “I wonder what it tastes like, your cum mixed with mine.”

He hummed and his gaze alone made her shiver. “Guess we have to find out,” he told her and he slowly pulled his fingers out and looked at her as he sucked his fingers clean. He moaned at the taste before he pressed them into her again and pulled them out and held them out to her. “How about you have a taste and be the judge.”

Kat hungrily took his fingers and her eyes closed as she licked them clean with a satisfied moan. “Tastes good right? You and me together?” He asked as he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a lewd pop and kissed her deeply, licking the taste of them from her mouth.

She moaned louder and pulled him flush against her. She could feel he was hardening again and she rolled her hips into his. “Very good,” she agreed.

“Yeah?” He asked as he took himself into his hand.

“So very good,” she repeated, holding his gaze and he guided himself into her again.

“The fucking best,” he agreed, his accent heavy. She moaned loudly, not caring if the neighbours heard through the window he left open. “I could spend the rest of my life buried in your sweet pussy,” he said softly in Russian. “You’re all I want; all I’ve ever wanted.”

He figured all she could pick up was maybe a few words, but he was wrong. She had been learning Russian, lessons stolen she could, and she understood every word he said. “You’re all I want, too,” she repeated back to him between thrusts and pulled him impossibly closer.

They were practically fused together, him buried so deep, and all he could smell was her, sweat and sex. He was more rocking into her than anything else, so close and intimate and she was so close again, so desperate to cum again. He was so deep, hitting her g-spot with every thrust. He was gonna fill her up again, make her cum.

“Drei,” she moaned as she clung to him. “My Drei.”

“Yours, Kisa, I’m yours,” he moaned, so close himself, but she had to cum first.

It only took a few more rock of his hips before she came again, moaning into his neck. It wasn’t as strong as her other highs, but it was still good, so intimate, and it was enough to send Andrei over the edge as well. He spilled into her with a loud moan of her name and filled her up with his cum. It was so good, so warm, and she didn’t think she could go back now that she had fully had him.

He let out a shaky breath and slowly rested his weight against her before he kissed her softly. “I love you so much,” he whispered against his lips.

“I love you more,” she whispered back.

He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Impossible,” he breathed and kissed her again before she could argue. She hummed against his lips. She’d let him have it this time. He certainly loved her longer, but she fell harder.

After a few moments of basking in the afterglow he pulled out, shushing her softly before he got up and headed to the bathroom to start a bath for the two of them to clean them up. “You good baby?” He asked when he came back, stroking her cheek.

“Very good,” she smiled sleepily at him as she leaned into his touch. “But I don’t think we’ll be needing any more condoms.”

He raised his eyebrows as he bent down and easily scooped her up in his arms, “yeah? No more condoms?”

“No more,” she hummed. “I don’t want anything between us anymore.”

He grinned as he sat her down on the edge of the tub. “I can get on board with that,” he said and quickly tested the water to make sure it was warm enough before he gently placed her in the water. He followed a moment later as he settled behind her. “I’ll throw the condoms out later.”

“Or you can just give it to the rookies,” she offered, making him laugh.

“Oh, Kisa, that’s generous. But none of them will be able to fit,” he laughed as he let his hand rest on her stomach.

She laughed with him. “An even better reason to give it to them,” she said as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Tell them they’re too small for you.”

He laughed louder as he nodded. She truly was the one for him. “I’ll toss them out like confetti.”

“You do that, big boy,” she smiled and rested her head back against his shoulder. She hummed when he kissed her cheek and he smiled to himself before he lathered a cloth up with Kat’s vanilla bodywash and began to wash her up. He was gentle as he ran the cloth over her; he was always so gentle, always cherishing her body, thankful for every time she let him touch her.

He started with her arms as he went up to her shoulders before he dipped under her arms and down her chest. He paid special attention to her chest as he washed her, and when he smiled at her whimper, she gave his chest a shove. His laugh made her chest warm and he held the cloth in his hand as he looked at her, so incredible in love with her.

Once they were both clean, he helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in a fluffy towel. They both brushed their teeth before they used the bathroom and Andrei helped Kat to bed, her towel forgotten on the floor in favour of his arms.

She could still feel his cum leaking out of her, but it only made her smile as she snuggled closer, a piece of him still buried inside her.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x oc #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov smut #andrei svechnikov x reader #Carolina Hurricanes #carolina hurricanes imagine #canes imagine #when it gets crisp in the fall story #andrei and kat #mine #hockey #hockey rpf #hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl smut #canes

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: so. this wasn’t a fic i planned on writing but kind of needed to, in order to just process some shit. i had the same thyroid surgery a couple of years ago, but only had half of it out at the time. i recently had a little bit of a scare that there was something going on with the remaining half (there wasn’t, i’m all good!!) but i sat down ready to write a different andrei fic and this one came out instead 😬 it’s kind of funny, because i wanted to post an andrei fic on the one year anniversary of posting that first andrei fic and it weirdly worked out that this fic is an opposite of that first one - andrei taking care of reader as opposed to her taking care of him after the acl injury. anyway, stupidly long note over and just one final thing: i have been so grateful and blessed by all the love for my hockey fics this past year and i’m looking forward to writing more fun fics for you guys 🤍

word count: 6.6k

tw: cancer mention, surgery mention, incisions and scarring mention

summary: when you have a medical scare, it’s andrei’s turn to take care of you

You manage to keep your emotions under control and locked away until you get home and Andrei’s head pops up over the back of the couch, television remote in hand, smile on his face as he asks, “how was your day?”

The words are barely out of his mouth before you’re bursting into hysterical tears, sobs wracking your entire body. Your bag slips off your shoulder and lands on the floor with a thump and you can’t see Andrei’s face fall in fear through your tears. But a second later, his arms are strong around your body, his chest solid under your cheek as he crushes you in a hug.

You’re grateful for it, for his solid presence, because the second he touches you, your knees buckle and he’s the only thing keeping you standing.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Andrei’s voice is thick with fear, one large hand stroking the back of your head. His voice shakes when he asks, “did someone die?”

You manage a shake of your head against his chest, breath hiccuping out of your chest. Your lungs feel tight and you’re pretty sure you’re not getting enough oxygen in on your shaky, shallow breaths. Andrei pulls back slightly and cradles your face in his hands, fingers gripping just slightly too tight. The pressure grounds you and even though you’re still sobbing, your breathing feels easier.

“Solnyshka, please, what’s happening?” Andrei studies you with worried eyes, his accent stronger than usual. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, like windshield wipers getting rid of your tears. “You’re scaring me.”

“D-doctor called,” you manage to choke out and Andrei’s grip on your face gets tighter. Your stomach swirls with nausea and you’re afraid that you might vomit on him.

Andrei mutters a curse under his breath, your reaction isn’t for good news.

You raise a shaky hand to your mouth and press your fingertips against your lips, muffling your voice as you choke out a fragmented sentence, “b-biopsy was, um, it’s - they said. Oh fuck, um, c-cancer.”

The word hangs in the air between your bodies, dropped like a bomb.

Andrei’s eyes go wide and he stares at you, jaw going slack. “Fuck,” he grits out the curse and you press the heels of your palms into your eye sockets, hard, until you see little white starbursts.

One of his hands slides down the side of your jaw until his thumb is right over the lump just above your collarbone, the cause of your tears. He’d been the one to notice it months ago, pressing a kiss to your skin and mumbling that something felt off. You’d brushed him off, like an idiot, thinking it was nothing until he had mentioned it again a few weeks later, noting that it was bigger. Twice more he had to comment on it before you went to your doctor, starting down a path of blood draws, ultrasounds, CT scans, and most recently, a biopsy.

You feel like an idiot for waiting so long.

Andrei’s lips meet your forehead, a warm kiss stabilizing you. He mumbles something against your skin and wraps his arms around you again in a tight hug. You lean heavily against him, mind going a mile a minute, your doctor’s words ringing in your ears. Without realizing it, Andrei gently ushers you up to your room, helping you strip off your clothes and turning on the shower for you. You blink at him and he cups your cheek.

“Shower,” he says, voice hoarse. “Clean the day off, yes? Then we figure it out. Together.”

You nod, wiping at the tears still sliding down your cheeks. “Please don’t leave?” Your voice cracks. You don’t think you can be alone with your thoughts right now. “Just…just tell me about something. Anything.”

“Okay,” he nods and leans against the countertop, arms crossed over his stomach. He’s quiet for a few moments while you get situated in the shower, hot water running over your face. You splutter out the water when it fills your mouth and tears well up in your eyes again. Andrei’s eyes study you as he slowly begins to tell you about practice, clearly trying to remember each and every little detail that he can to try and distract you.

It sort of works, drawing a faint laugh when he tells you about Pyotr’s latest adventure in the crease, but also your brain can’t stop thinking about the c-word. It’s a constant loop in your brain - “I’m sorry, the biopsy was positive for malignant cells. Thyroid cancer. I’m scheduling you for an appointment in two days to discuss the plan going forward.”

Without you really participating, still in a daze, Andrei turns the shower off and bundles you in a towel, rubbing his hands up and down you arms to get some warmth in your body. He guides you into the bedroom and quickly helps you into sweats, bundling you up under the covers before climbing in next to you and pulling you close so your chest is flush against his.

“You’re shaking,” he comments, squeezing you tightly. Your head is tucked under his chin, nose pressed against his neck.

“She didn’t say,” you mumble, cutting yourself off. “What if it’s - what if it’s bad?”

Andrei shakes his head above you and his fingertips draw nonsense patterns on your back. “It won’t be,” he says firmly.

“But what if it is?” You press him in a shaky voice. “What if I’m like, just -“

“Stop,” he says shortly, interrupting your spiral. You shut your mouth with a little snap. “When do you see doctor again?”

“Two days,” you reply. “The first appointment, eight in the morning.”

Normally your doctor is booked up weeks in advance. The fact that she’s squeezing you in last minute only makes your heart beat faster, nausea churn in your stomach. It must be bad, for her to make sure you get in quickly. If it weren’t, wouldn’t she just let you schedule a normal appointment?

Andrei’s talking, but you don’t hear him over your spiralling thoughts. “Sorry,” you tap on his chest, drawing his attention. “I wasn’t- what were you saying?”

He kisses the crown of your head. “You can have breakfast before? I’ll take you for coffee before we go to the appointment. Is the office near that coffee shop you like?”

“You - wait,” you’re still not really processing what he’s saying, too hung up on cancercancercancer.

“Breakfast before your appointment,” Andrei repeats. His legs tangle with yours.

“You don’t have to -“ you start to say, shaking your head. He doesn’t need to be burdened with your medical stuff now.

Andrei interrupts you with a little pat to your ass. “I’m coming with you, final. No arguing, solnyshka,” his cheek rests against your head and you can feel his hands tremble a little against your back.

“Okay,” you murmur. “No arguing. But you might be late for practice…I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

The thought of going to your appointment alone is terrifying though and you’re grateful that Andrei offered, that you didn’t have to ask. Because you wouldn’t have asked, not when you know he’s busy and distracted with the season. Not when you’re an adult and should be able to handle this on your own.

“Leave to me,” he says. “I’ll handle, okay? Just try to relax now and then we’ll have dinner.”

“I can’t eat,” you reply immediately, your stomach lurches violently. The thought of food is enough to have you ready to rush for the toilet. Frankly, you’re surprised you haven’t already vomited from the sheer anxiety of the situation.

“Then you can watch me eat,” Andrei jokes, surprising a weak giggle from you. You can feel his cheek move against the top of your head with a smile and allow yourself to focus on the steady beat of his heart under your cheek until you fall into a fitful, unsatisfying sleep.

The next day drags and speeds by and before you know it, you’re waking up at 4:30 in the morning on the day of your appointment. You try to stay quiet on your side of the bed, so you don’t wake Andrei up - there was a game last night and he’d gotten home late - but he’s more attuned to you than you realized. His hand slides over your hip, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into the dark. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

His eyes are still shut and his voice is low and hoarse with sleep, but Andrei’s lips curl up in a sleepy, lazy smile. “Didn’t wake me,” he mumbles into the pillow as his hand finds yours. You lace your fingers with his, feeling the ridges of his knuckles with the pads of your fingers. “Don’t want you nervous alone.”

“Thanks,” you manage to choke out the word around the lump of emotion lodged in your throat. Andrei tugs on your hand and you slide closer to him, letting him tuck you under his arm and bury his face in your neck.

“Sleep again. Alarm is set,” his breath is warm on your skin and his arm is a heavy, reassuring weight over your stomach. You close your eyes and let yourself mimic Andrei’s slow, steady breathing. It’s not easy and your brain continues whirling a mile a minute, thinking about the lump on your neck, the possible treatment, possible long term effects. You just wish you knew already how bad it is.

Andrei grunts next to you, blowing little pieces of hair from your face. “Stop thinking, solnyshka. You’re going to start a fire with all your thoughts,” he kisses your shoulder and pulls you closer, crushing you against his side so tightly it’s almost hard to breathe. You focus on the weight of his arm and the heat of his body until you can feel your heartbeat slow down.

The next time you wake up, it’s to an empty bed and the smell of eggs and bacon in the air. You yawn and stretch out, turning your head to see the time on your Hatch. 6:45, a much more reasonable time to be awake.

A pit sits heavy in your stomach and you scrub a hand over your face, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. Just over an hour until you really know what you’re dealing with.

You can hear Andrei moving around in the kitchen and with a heavy sigh, you push yourself out of bed and move on auto-pilot to get ready for the appointment. You take time with your hair and makeup, feeling a little bit better once you start looking like a human again.

“Hi,” you greet Andrei quietly once you head down to the kitchen. He looks up from where he’s scrolling on his phone while eating his first breakfast of eggs and bacon.

“Morning,” he opens one arm for you to come and lean against him. You rest your head on his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. “Sleep well?”

You lift one shoulder in a shrug and Andrei chuckles a bit. “Snored and drooled all over me,” he teases, “so it was a rhetorical question.”

“I did not!” You protest, a spark of energy flaring while you defend yourself. You push back from Andrei’s side and squint at him, a little pout on your lips.

“Did too,” Andrei grins and when he grabs your chin in his hand to draw you in for a kiss, you know he provoked you on purpose and is happy with the result.

You exhale a scoff through your nose when he pulls back, shit-eating grin still on his face. “Terrible man,” you murmur affectionately.

His grin turns smirky and his hand slides down to rest against the curve of your ass. He pats lightly, a little frisson of heat traveling through your body at the contact. You sigh and lean into him again, not looking forward to leaving the little bubble of your home.

At the coffee shop, you pick at the cinnamon scone Andrei had forced into your hands, crumbs littering the tabletop as you shred it with your fingers. Andrei studies you, chewing on the black plastic straw in his iced white chocolate mocha. You’re startled when he abruptly asks, “where do you want to go this summer?”

Crumbs skitter across the table when your fingers jolt and you blink at him, hands frozen in midair. “What?” You ask, shaking your head and processing. It clicks a second later and you continue, “I…I can’t think about the summer, Drei. I just need to get through today.”

He keeps chewing on the straw and you can’t help but watch his lips as they move. “Solnyshka, when this is over and you’re not going anywhere on vacation, you’ll tell me that we should have planned something,” he smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “So, where do you want to go this summer?”

Tears prickle at your eyes, again, overwhelmed by Andrei’s thoughtfulness. Pausing for time and to make sure your voice isn’t shaky when you do speak, you look down at the massacred scone and brush your fingers together to get rid of the crumbs on your fingers. “Um,” you clear your throat, “I don’t know, really. Nykki and Martin love Mauritius. Maybe there?”

“Whatever you want,” Andrei agrees easily, slurping at his drink. He pushes the napkin with a larger chunk of scone on it towards you. “Eat,” he demands, tone firm.

You take a small bite, just to appease him, but the pastry tastes like sawdust in your mouth.

Andrei holds your hand throughout the entire appointment and you’re grateful for his presence, because you can’t focus on anything your doctor says after ‘stage I papillary thyroid cancer’ and ‘surgery’ and ‘radioactive iodine treatment, just to be sure.’ He squeezes your fingers tighter and tighter as your doctor talks, pointing out something on the black and white images of your ultrasound and CT scan. The blurry blobs could be anything and you honestly have no idea what she’s pointing at.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, blood rushing like you’re underwater, as she explains the surgery you’ll be undergoing. A thyroidectomy to remove your entire thyroid and the cancerous lymph nodes. In and out in the hospital, a straight line cut across your lower throat. A scar unless you’re good with applying Vitamin E oil or Mederma. Possible damage to your vocal cords, but that’s very rare.

“What does your schedule look like in the next month?” She asks, briskly but not unkindly.

You blink at her and shake your head slightly. Andrei looks at you, waiting for an answer. “I, um,” you pause, trying to mentally access your calendar, “I’m open. I just…have to put in the leave time at work.”

“Good,” she says, looking down at the paper calendar on her desktop and running her finger over the boxes, “we’ll schedule your thyroidectomy for a week and a half from today, that’s a lighter day for me. All the pre-op information will be in your portal and we’ll go from there on scheduling the rest of your treatment. Any questions?”

A million.

“No,” you murmur, “um, not right now.”

“Can I stay with her?” Andrei leans forward to ask. “When she has surgery?”

“You can wait in the waiting room while she’s under,” your doctor replies. “And once she’s out of the anaesthesia and discharged, you’ll have to drive her home. She won’t be able to drive for a day or so while the anaesthesia really works out of her system.”

You’re shaking your head. “No, you have work. You have practice and games, someone else will drive me. I’ll ask Nykki…”

“No,” Andrei turns to you with wide brown eyes. “I’ll drive you. I’ll be there, solnyshka.”

You shake your head again, but keep quiet because you don’t want to have a fight with Andrei in front of the doctor. The rest of the appointment is routine scheduling and you leave with your head swimming and a surgery date burned into your brain.

You’re quiet the rest of the day and Andrei doesn’t push you to talk, instead trying to go about your routine as normally as possible. He’s missed practice - “personal reasons” Rod’s quoted as saying on Twitter, but “nothing that will prevent him from playing tomorrow.”

The next week and a half feels like a blur - you’re distracted and anxious with Andrei playing three games in seven days, two of them on the road, taking him away from you. He’s back the day before your surgery and doesn’t say anything when you greet him at the door with a tight hug and cling to him for the rest of the night, your stomach growling since you can’t eat, both from the anxiety and the pre-surgical requirements.

“Are you sure about missing the game tomorrow?” You ask later, when it’s dark and you’re buried under the blankets. “I feel -“

“Don’t feel bad,” Andrei rubs small circles over your back. “I made decision. Rod understands. You are more important than the game and the boys promised to win for you.”

A soft giggle escapes into the air and some of your guilt along with it. You hate that Andrei’s missing the game, hate that he’s missing it for you. You hate that everyone seems to know your personal business too, but you know Andrei had needed to talk about what you’re going through too.

His other hand moves up to your scalp and scratches gently, tension seeping from your shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he kisses your cheek. “Early day tomorrow.”

“I love you,” you whisper. “So much.”

Andrei has to practically manhandle you into the car in the morning, making sure you’re dressed comfortably and warm. Your head rests against the window as he drives. “I’ll pick up some groceries while you’re napping,” he says, brushing his thumb over your knee. “Anything you want specific?”

“Butterscotch pudding,” you ask hopefully, smiling a little. You try not to eat a ton of processed foods, but you figure post-surgery you’ll indulge.

“On it,” Andrei grins at you, dimple popping. He looks calm, which reassures you. Once he parks and you enter the hospital, everything speeds up and slows down. Andrei helps you fill out paperwork while you change into the hospital gown and grippy socks.

You fold up your clothes neatly and put them in the little duffle bag you brought along. Andrei catches sight of the pile and raises an eyebrow, “are you not wearing underwear?”

Your cheeks heat up with a flush and you hold the gown shut behind you. “No,” you hiss, “I’m not allowed to. Don’t even start with me.”

“I wasn’t going to,” his smile is a little too sneaky and you try to climb onto the bed in a way that doesn’t leave your entire ass exposed. You fail miserably, if the little wolf-whistle Andrei lets out is any indication.

“I hate you,” you mutter, pulling the sheet up around your legs. You’re both quiet while the nurse comes around to make sure all your paperwork is filled out and signed. Andrei immediately reaches for your hand when the nurse puts the IV line in your other hand - “for the anesthesia, later,” she explains - knowing that you hate needles more than anything.

And then there’s nothing to do but wait.

Andrei’s sitting on the edge of the bed, texting and reading out the messages that the guys are directing to you. “Jarvy,” he says, wincing at the screen, “wants to know if you get to keep your thyroid once it’s removed.”

“Uh, no,” you reply flatly, face screwing up in disgust at the thought of it. “I hate this.”

His hand lands on your knee and rubs it through the sheet. “It will be over before you know it,” he soothes you. “In meantime, Skjeisy says you can join me and him in the cool scar club.”

Your hand subconsciously lifts to your throat, fingers wrapping around it loosely, and you blow out a breath, puffing up your cheeks. “Not a club I really wanted to join,” you say wryly.

You scroll through Twitter absently, a pit of guilt settling low in your stomach when you see the Tweet from the Canes’ account that Andrei’s missing tonight’s game for personal reasons. Your thumb hovers over the tweet, ready to tap on it and read the replies, when Andrei plucks the device from your hands. “Hey!” You protest, reaching for your phone. Andrei pulls it out of your reach.

“No more social media,” he says, tucking your phone in the back pocket of his jeans for safe keeping. With his other hand, he digs a little envelope out of his front pocket. “I forgot, yesterday, to give this to you. But mom sent this and I was supposed to give it to you before surgery,” he settles the little envelope in your hands and you look at it curiously.

Opening the flap, you tilt the contents out onto the palm of your hand - a little gold medallion on a chain. You hold it up to your face and see the tiny icon embossed into the gold. “Who is this?” You ask, rubbing your thumb over the image.

“Saint Anastasia,” Andrei replies, “she was a healer, I think. Mama wanted to make sure you were protected.”

Elena’s gesture of love and concern hits you like a punch to the stomach and you startle both yourself and Andrei by bursting out into ugly, loud sobs. Your face crumples and fingers tighten around the chain.

Andrei lets out a noise of distress that you can barely hear over your crying and rush of blood in your ears. His arms wrap around your upper body and you bury your face in his chest, getting tears and snot everywhere. “It’s okay,” he whispers in your ear, stroking a hand over your hair. “Hey, stop crying, nurses are going to think something is wrong. Shh.”

“I just really love your mom,” you wail into his chest, muffled by his shirt.

Andrei keeps shushing you, alternating with trying to comfort you. You sniffle and pull back, wiping at your face with the back of your wrist. “Better?” Andrei asks, cupping your chin. His lips are drawn down in a concerned frown.

“A little, yeah,” you nod, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping one arm around them. You hold your other hand up, the little pendant dangling from its chain in between your faces. “Can you keep this safe for me?”

He nods and lets you clasp the chain around his neck. The little pendant falls into place against his chest, dwarfed next to his giant cross. You smooth your fingertips over the icon and his cross, lingering for a few heartbeats over the warm metals. Andrei’s hand comes up to cover yours and he squeezes your fingers. “You are going to be perfect, solnyshka,” he mumbles, lifting your hand to his mouth to kiss your fingertips.

“Okay, kids,” your nurse, a cheerful older woman named Monica, appears at the foot of your bed, drawing yours and Andrei’s attention, “one more kiss and then I’m whisking you off to the best sleep of your life.”

Andrei squeezes your fingers again and presses a soft kiss against your lips, mumbling, “see you soon.”

You press your fingers into his chest, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt, fingers curling like you’re going to hold on and not let go. With a shaky sigh, you release him and manage a brave little smile, “don’t forget my butterscotch pudding.”

He nods, laughing under his breath, and then Monica’s helping you get settled back on the bed and Andrei steps off to the side while a whole little team appears to transport you to the operating room. You twist your fingers together anxiously, stomach turning, and turn on the bed so you can keep looking at Andrei until you’re completely out of the pre-op ward. He catches your eye and winks, waving a little and tapping his other hand over his chest, where your icon hangs next to his cross.

“He’s a real cutie,” Monica comments idly, drawing your attention once the swinging doors are shut behind your little parade and Andrei’s out of sight.

“Oh,” you hum faintly, “he really is. I don’t deserve him, honestly.”

“Now, I’m sure that’s not true,” she keeps chatting as you get situated on the operating table, climbing awkwardly from your bed, trying to keep the gown closed over your ass. “You’re just as cute, even more, I’d say.”

“Thanks,” you laugh a little, the compliment warming the icy block of nerves lodged in your chest. Once you’re laid out on the table, you run a hand over your sternum, breathing deeply.

The surgeon comes in and offers you a warm smile, “I promise, I’m really good at this.”

You’re thrown off a little by the statement and he nods, clearly pleased with himself. “I find that patients always want me to be a little cocky,” he continues, sitting down on a wheeling stool next to the table you’re on. “We’ll be done before you know it and you’ll wake up feeling extremely well-rested.”

“As long as you’ve got the skill to back up your words,” you say, surprisingly reassured a bit by his no-nonsense manner.

Monica pats your hand and grins, “he does. Now, count back from ten and you’ll be back with that sweetheart of yours in no time.”

Your lips curl up briefly and you angle your head away when you feel the little tug on the IV in your hand indicating that the anesthesia is getting attached and started. In your head, you start the count at ten, nine, eight —

“Oh, looks like she’s coming around,” a voice breaks through the dark haziness surrounding you and you try to blink, but your body feels too heavy.

There’s a warm pressure on your hand and you twitch your fingers against it. A little shiver works its way through your body, you’re freezing.

The warmth on your hand moves up your arm - a hand stroking against your skin. “Whenever you’re ready,” the familiar accent washes over you, “I can’t wait to see those eyes, solnyshka.”

A hum forms in the back of your throat and that’s a mistake because it hurts and you let yourself fall back asleep to avoid the pain.

The next time you wake up, the bright lights of the hospital almost force you to close your eyes again. You grumble wordlessly and the noise draws Andrei’s attention from where he’s sitting in a chair next to your bed, scrolling on his phone. He looks over at you and his face immediately breaks out into a wide, dimpled smile.

“Hey,” he greets you, scooting the chair closer and reaching for your hands. His are still warm against your cold ones and it’s nice when his thumb brushes over the backs of your knuckles. “How do you feel?”

Before answering, you take stock of your body and you’re surprised to find that you feel pretty good beyond the pain in your throat. That feels like you’re swallowing knives. “‘M okay,” you manage to mumble quietly, wincing at the stretch of your skin. “C’n I have water?”

“Da,” Andrei pours water into a little plastic cup and hands it to you, plunking a straw in the water. You take a sip and it feels so good going down, the cold water soothing the burning. You sigh happily and sink back into the pillows.

“How’d it go?” You ask, rolling your head so your cheek is resting on your shoulder and you can see Andrei better. Your voice scratches out of your throat, raspy and hoarse like you’d just smoked a pack of cigarettes.

“Surgeon says perfect,” Andrei grins, the crinkles around his eyes deepening. “You did so good, solnyshka.”

His fingers never stop stroking yours and you melt at the contact, glad his the first face you saw when you woke up. “Wonder how bad the scar is,” you mutter, resisting the urge to touch your lower neck, where the skin feels tight and battered. “Can I see?”

Andrei’s hesitation and slight frown before he says, “maybe not best idea right now,” tells you all you need to know.

“Oh my god,” your eyes go wide, panic starting to claw at your chest. “He botched me! I’m botched, it’s a horrible scar, right?”

“No, no!” Andrei shakes his head frantically. “Not botched! It just, with the glue, there’s no stitches. But you can see all the blood. It looks worse than it is, the surgeon said.”

“But it looks really bad,” you confirm and before Andrei can say anything, Monica appears behind his shoulder.

“Look at you, awake and ready to go,” she smiles, effectively cutting off any discussion about your neck, and asking how you feel while filling out your chart. You answer as honestly as you can, voice growing more hoarse the longer you talk. “Well, everything looks really good. We’re going to keep you here for a few more hours and then, if everything keeps looking good, you’ll be back home before dinner time.”

You and Andrei chime a simultaneous ‘thank you’ as she leaves.

“Give me my phone,” you demand and Andrei shakes his head.

“No way,” he taps the back of your hand. “I’ll be your secretary. You’re just going to get upset if you look.”

“I won’t!” You counter petulantly, poking your lower lip out. “I just want to see.”

“When we get home,” he promises and you scowl at him. He effortlessly changes the subject, showing you a picture of Gigi that Martin had apparently sent earlier. You smile at your favorite puppy, swallowing often to try and ease the sharp pain. It doesn’t do much other than intensify the pain and you start to regret it, closing your eyes for another nap.

By the time you’re cleared for discharge, the pain meds have worn off completely and your neck hurts, a dark mood clouding your head. Andrei is patient with you, helping you change back into your sweats and zip-up. You protest the wheelchair an orderly brings around, but you’re told it’s hospital policy and you slump into the seat, crossing your arms over your chest. Andrei runs his hand over the crown of your head as he walks next to you, carrying your empty duffel bag.

Instead of driving his Lamborghini, your Toyota Rav is waiting at the curb and you smile. “Oh thank god,” you mutter and Andrei laughs.

“Didn’t think you’d want to get down low in my car,” he explains, holding out a hand to help you stand and then climb up into the passenger seat. He left a blanket in the car for you too and you take the opportunity to cover yourself up with it while he goes around the front of the car. You wave at the orderly through the window and Andrei starts the car.

“You thought right,” you yawn. It’s a fast drive home and you’re grateful for that, because all you want to do is rinse off and lay down. Considering you’d been under anesthesia for a couple of hours, you’re exhausted. You’re so tired, you forget to flip down the visor mirror to look at your incision.

Once you’re home, Andrei bundles you into the house, one hand solid against your lower back as he guides you up the front path. “I know you want to shower,” Andrei says, “but remember the doctor said not to get the glue wet for twenty four hours.”

You whine, cranky and desperate for a shower. “I want all the gross hospital feeling off of me, Drei,” you pout, toeing off your sneakers and crossing your arms.

He drops your tote next to your sneakers and raises an eyebrow. “I know, you can get in the bath and I’ll wash your hair. We’ll be careful with your neck, okay ?”

Your neck feels stiff and your throat is still sore, but you nod, just wanting to take your Tylenol and relax. When you shuffle further into the house, you spot bouquets of flowers on the kitchen island and gasp. “What are those?” You whisper hoarsely, tears prickling at your eyes.

“Oh, right,” Andrei laughs. “Special deliveries for my girl. The team sent and your office, Neci and Nykki. My parents, your parents, Geno.”

Tears slip down your cheeks and you feel overwhelmed with love. You wipe at your eyes with the heels of your palms and turn to Andrei for a hug. He embraces you easily and you shake your head. “I didn’t want everyone to know,” your throat hurts more when you cry.

“Only the important people,” he says. “Everyone loves you, solnyshka.”

The reminder of how many people are supporting you makes you think of Elena’s gift and you pull back from Andrei’s chest. “Can I have my necklace back now?” You ask in a shaky voice.

“Of course,” he unclasps the thin chain from his neck and hooks it around yours, pleased to see that the chain doesn’t touch your glued over incision. He taps the pendant with the tip of his finger and kisses your temple.

After an unsatisfying bath and a glance in the mirror that shows the dark rings under your eyes and the gruesome looking wound on your neck, you’re more or less clean and you build a nest of blankets and pillows on your bed, tucking yourself into the middle of it all. You have to sleep sitting up or partially reclined for the first night and it’s not your favorite way to sleep, so you prop a bunch of pillows around your head and hope that works. Andrei brings you a butterscotch pudding and climbs onto his side of the bed so you can watch the game.

“My neck looks awful,” you blurt, unable to stop thinking about it.

“It doesn’t,” Andrei replies. “Just for now with the blood and glue.”

“The scar is going to be so obvious in pictures,” you poke at the pudding with your spoon.

“You look badass,” Andrei rolls onto his side and grins at you. “Like a warrior.”

You scowl at him, feeling like he’s making fun of you even though you know he’s completely serious. You jab at the pudding again, suddenly nauseous. “I wish this was it,” you mutter, still raspy and hoarse and you’re really hoping it’s just temporary and that the surgeon didn’t actually fuck up your vocal cords. “But I still have the radiation and then who knows…”

“One day at a time,” Andrei knocks your foot with his. “That’s what you said to me, right? Every time I’ve been recovering, it’s one day at a time.”

He’s right, for each and every one of his injuries, you had been preaching taking recovery one day at a time. You suppose it’s time to practice what you preach now. Still, your anxiety ratchets up every time you think about the c-word, darkness and worst case scenarios dancing in your head. You twist your fingers around a piece of hair, fidgeting as you mind spins.

Andrei’s hand snakes over your thigh, rubbing gently at the soft fabric of your sweats. He rests his chin just above your knee and says, “hey, look at me.” It feels weird when he talks, chin bouncing on your leg, but you look down at him.

“Hm?” You chew at your lower lip.

“One day at a time,” he repeats firmly, refusing to break eye contact with you. When you nod and he’s satisfied, he presses a kiss to your knee and rolls back onto his back. “Who do you think scores first?” He gestures to the TV, trying to lighten the mood in the room.

You play along, wanting to avoid the pain and the scary future for now. Scooping out a bite of pudding and sticking the spoon in your mouth, you hum around the dessert before teasing, “oh, it’s definitely going to be Pyotr.”

Life goes pretty much back to normal over the next few days, you’re back at work and Andrei hits the road with the team. The glue over your incision flakes off and while the cut is a vivid, angry-looking red, it’s a clean, straight line only about three inches long. You’re obsessive about applying Mederma and Vitamin E oil to help the scar fade as quickly as possible. Your voice is still a little raspy, but it’s getting better slowly.

By the end of the week, you’re working up the courage to call your doctor to schedule your radiation therapy session. It’s a terrifying thought and your hands shake every time you think about it. But Andrei had sent a text this morning, reminding you to make the call. And you don’t want to let him down, not after how supportive he’s been. So, you stare down at the contact information for your doctor’s office, wishing you could, like, use the Force to make the call.

Startling you, the phone begins to vibrate on the table, the same contact information you had been looking at flashing on the screen.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself, blinking stupidly at the phone and swiping at the last second to accept the call. “Hello?”

It’s your doctor, making a personal call, the smile evident in her voice. Within minutes, you’re sobbing with relief as she tells you they ran additional tests on the tissue taken from your neck and while the initial thought and course of action had been to have radiation therapy, the surgeon was confident he had gotten all the cancerous tissue out of your neck.

“You’re cancer-free,” she tells you cheerfully. “I love making these calls.”

“Really?” You manage to squeak out the word around your tears.

“Really. You’ll have to be on a synthetic thyroid pill for the rest of your life and see me every four to six months for blood tests and evaluations,” she explains, “but I am very confident that the malignancy is gone and you won’t need radiation therapy.”

The rest of the conversation passes in a blur and you’re pretty sure the only thing you manage to say is a repeated ‘thank you, thank you, thank you’ before the call ends.

You sit on the couch, shell-shocked, gripping the little icon hanging around your neck.

That’s where Andrei finds you when he gets back from morning skate, tears dripping down your cheeks. Before he can ask, you catch his eyes and beam, “cancer free.”

Andrei lets out an unintelligible, strangled noise of joy and rushes to the couch, swinging you up in his arms and holding you to his chest in a bruising hug. He murmurs in Russian in your ear and you can feel his shoulders shake a little. “I love you,” he murmurs, while you cling to him, “I love you so much, solnyshka. So much.”

His arms are tight around your back and you hook your legs around his waist, not wanting to let go any time soon. Your face is buried in his neck and you’re not sure if his skin is damp from his shower or your tears, but you can’t stop crying.

“Did you book Mauritius?” You laugh wetly into Andrei’s shoulder.

Andrei’s laugh startles out of his chest, echoing around the living room and vibrating through your whole body. It’s your favorite sound in the whole world and you can’t wait to keep hearing it for a long time.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov fic #nhl fic

[hockeybabe]

Playoff Love|| A. Svechnikov

Gif not mine

Pairings: Andrei Svechnikov x gf!reader

Summary: after the canes win their first round game you decide to show your boyfriend how much you love him.

Warnings: oral (f!receiving), fingering, swearing, praise kink Andrei, dirty talk, fluffy ending and starting, and my Google translate.

Word count: 1.1k

Note: I love Andrei so much and I just had to do it for the canes. AND THE LEAFS MADE SECOND ROUND!!!

When your boyfriend clinched the playoffs, you couldn’t be more excited for him and the team. Andrei had a tendency to get really horny every time you wore his jersey, and for the playoffs, he made it his mission to win game five for you. But today was the sixth game, and the Canes were already leading the series 3-2.

The game didn’t start till later, and you couldn’t wait to watch your boyfriend. "Malyshka, I have to go." Andrei says, with his bag of hockey stuff and his suit on. Getting off the bed, you walk up to him. "Well, I’ll be watching every second, and if you win, I’ll show you how much I love you." You say in a teasing tone.

"Don’t try something you know you can’t win." He warns you, grabbing your chin and tilting you up to look at him. You smile at him brightly. "I think it’ll be a win-win if you win. If not only one of us will suffer." You say, moving your eyes down to Andrei’s bulge growing in his pants.

"Fuck Malyshka, you're pushing my limits." Andrei groans in his heavy accent. He kisses you deeply before saying goodbye. You had high hopes for the game for Andrei’s sake, but either way, he was going to fuck you up all night. You still had two hours to spare, so you decided to clean up the apartment you and Andrei live in and pick out your outfit.

Looking through your lingerie drawer, you find a red and black lace pattern one-piece. It drew your attention immediately as it represented the colour of the canes. Placing the piece on your bed, you grab some simple black tights and Andrei’s jersey. When you leave your closet, you grab the clothes and put them on.

You couldn’t deny that you knew what you were doing. The moment you started to flirt with Andrei and tease him, you had a feeling it would end with you on the bed, coming for hours, win or lose. Either way, it had you really excited. Putting on the last piece of clothing, you grab your phone, keys, and wallet, putting them all into your purse. 

You got to the game right before it started. You took your seat right behind the glass of the Canes' net. If the canes won, they’d move on to the second round, and you had a good feeling. As the game went on, it got to the end, and they did it 2-1! Sebastian Aho and Paul Stastny had scored, allowing us to win.

You texted Andrei that his winning prize was at home waiting for him, giving you all the time to strip, leaving you in your lingerie lying on your bed resting on your elbows while arching your back. "Malyshka!" Andrei called out; you could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer.

"Y/n," he says quietly, peeking his head through the barely opened door. Andrei’s eyes widen as he sees you on the bed, feeling his dick strain in his pants. "Wow, this is… fuck Malyshka." He says, flabbergasted. "Big wins equal big surprises." You tell him, biting the bottom of your lip. 

Andrei unbuttons his dress shirt, revealing his abs. He crawls over your body on the bed with his face inches from yours. "Only bad girls wear skimpy lingerie. Are you a bad girl?" He taunts, trailing a finger around the patterns of the material. "I’m a good girl, I promise. I did it for you." You said, pouting your lip ever so slightly. 

"How can I say no to that?" Andrei captures your lips, forcing his tongue into your mouth as he pushes your hips into the mattress. Andrei trails his lips from your lips to your neck and right under your ear. "I bet if I put my hand in between your legs, they’d be soaked because that’s what good girls are. Soaked." He growls, nipping at your ear.

"Andrei." You whine, rocking your hips upwards to create some sort of friction. "How much do you like this piece?" He asks, turning you over so you are on top. Too focused on getting yourself off, you try to wiggle your hips out of his grasp. "Answer me, Malyshka." He demands. "It doesn’t mean anything." You shudder as Andrei finally allows you to grind against him.

"Good girl." He praises ripping the lace from the back. You gasp as you feel the cool breeze run over your back, causing goosebumps. Andrei peels off the top half of your piece. "Up." Andrei taps under your thigh as you lift your hips, giving Andrei the opportunity to tear off the rest of your lingerie.

"You have way too many clothes on." You say, reconnecting your lips, taking off his dress shirt, and unbuckling his belt. Andrei leans against the bed frame, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to his cock. You moan, parting your lips. "You had a good time today?" He asks, rolling you over on your back. "The best." You say smiling. Andrei places teasing kisses down your stomach, using his free hand to play with your tits.

"That’s what I like to hear." Andrei says, running his fingers up and down your slick folds, spreading your wetness. You moan, scratching the back of his head. "That’s it, Malyshka; let me hear you." You moan in response as Andrei adds a digit to your pussy. He pumps in and out at a fast pace while his thumb works on your clit.

"You like that dirty girl." Andrei taunts, adding a second digit, pumping even faster. "That’s it, come on my fingers." He orders. You gasp, clenching around his thick fingers. Andrei’s head moves down your body, placing peppered kisses here and there before going to your pussy and licking you clean. The heels of your feet dig into Andrei’s back as your hands pull at his hair.

Your head falls back as a loud moan escapes you. "Andrei, please," you beg as he continues to give you long strokes with his tongue. "You taste divine Malyshka." Andrei says with a cheeky grin. "Fuck Andrei, I'm going to-" Before you could finish, your second orgasm rolled through, causing your body to go limp.

"Look at you, being such a good girl, coming for me. It’s a good thing we won." Andrei says coming back up to face you, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks. "You’re lucky; I love you." You say to him. "And you’re lucky, I love you, because you should have about two more rounds to make up for my four wins." He says picking you up and taking you to the shower. 

You laugh all the way there because, like you said, "you had a feeling it would end with you on the bed, coming for hours, win or lose." And it was the biggest win of your life. 

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