#andrei x reader

[dark-night-hero]

Hello! Are you accepting requests for eleceed right now? If you are can you please write dating headcanons for Andrei, Schneider, Glant Gesimov and Cain Luterain? If you are not taking requests then you can just ignore this. Thank you anyways ❤️

Andrei ; One of the world's top 10 awakened one, under frame.

Personally, I don't think Andrei. Based on his personality would be the one to be in a relationship but now that I think about it. Maybe it was possible on its own twisted ways.

Andrei would never admit that he was in love, even if he did. He would think it was absurd. Just the thought of it would drive him crazy. How could he, of all people, of all awakened one finally have one hell of a thing, let alone a person he could call his weakness?

Andrei would never make a move, or at least on the surface. Because trust me, every single thing you thought was a coincidence that lead you to him was no coincidence let alone faith at all. That was just you running on top of his palm the moment he have taken interest in you.

He had calculated every single thing that had you fall for him, from the first meeting, the second meeting, the way you have slowly taken interest in him, the way he, slowly but surely pull you in the world of awakened one, the way he slowly brainwashed you into agreeing with his beliefs and ideals in his life.

You were the one who confessed. He made sure of that, making sure his pride would never be harmed into taking the first move into making things official as he nonchalantly accepted your feelings, a smirk making it's way on his lips when you were not looking at him, thinking how innocent and unsuspecting you were all this time.

Dating Andrei, one of the worlds fearsome man yet being unaware of it means staying within the premises of the frame. You never knew the bad side of that organisation though. And Andrei made it sure that you would never find out about it. He did not want to scare you, let alone force you and keep you unwillingly within the Frame.

Dating Andrei means constantly staring at nothing but him as he cultivate his power in his chambers, once in a while you would found yourself doing something productive like crochet or even writing. Nothing could harm you within Frame.

Dating Andrei means you're aware that something seems wrong, like something was wrong about everything. But it was already too late as you've already fallen in love with him. Your mind and body now belongs to him, like it or not. He had made it that way.

At the end of the day, dating Andrei only means that he wanted to keep you safe. Even if that means locking you away from the rest of the world. Whether it is love or obsession that he felt. He'll keep you within his reach, even it that means breaking you.

Schnauder ; One of the world's top 10 under frame, also the mentor of Roist and Duke.

He's handsome, and damn boy. He knows that well enough to make use of it.

Unlike Andrei, I do think that Schnauder is up for a relationship. But not for a serious one. So what happens when you, whom he thought was a passing play thing manage to get pass his defense and tug his heartstrings?

Being both in the frame, it was not a secret thing at least within the organization that the two of you where a thing, but you two have always make sure to keep it in a professional way in the eyes of the public but it was a different thing in private and within the sigh of his poor disciples.

Dating him, at first was quite intimidating even though you had found him attracted all of the time, it was different by the time you've been in a relationship with him. With your relationship mostly about being in sheets with him yet it was enough as others would often describe it to being in a relationship with him. Because he treats them so kindly before he discharge them like they were nothing.

Dating him, the man you've been eyeing for so long, has you walking around eggshell at first as you try to keep him satisfied, knowing well that he would be around the longest in that way. But the more you get to spend your time with him, the more you show more side of you, the more he grew curios and fond of you.

Other says that you two would be quick. Schnauder was never the one to keep someone for so long. You know that, everyone knows that. So how surprising to others let alone you by the time you realise that this was no short time thing? That by the time you realise it, its already been years and counting.

Dating Schnauder means getting to know more sides of him, that means knowing he was too prideful to admit he was in love with you, something others may not see but but you knowing him as well as his disciple Roist knowing him, you both knew the way he was treating you was different from others.

After all, who would dare raise their voice at his mentor and be alive by the time they manage to finish their sentence? Not even this old plaything get to do that, no. They would have died on the spot by the time they glare at Schnauder.

You were different. Maybe that was what pull him to you, you never expected more from him. At the same time as time passed by, he hoped that you'd be more greedily about things, about him.

At the end of the day, the two of you would have just acknowledged that the two of you were in fact, in love with each other. And that he would never, never ever admit that due to his pride. And you were fine with that. You knew him well enough. And that was enough.

Glant Gesimov ; Considered as one of the world's top 10 rookies, is a student of the world awakened academy.

Oh boy, he was intimidating. His body was far greater and larger from others so others were quite intimidated by him. Given that fact, others would often want to get out of his way, you were one of them too. So imagine the horror in your face when you, one of the lowkey students of the academy manage to dump into him, practically falling to the floor from the impact and by the time you look up. Oh how doomed you were.

Or so you thought, because if that was the case. You would not found yourself hanging out with the man in question, let alone be dating him.

"Come on now Glant, don't sare the poor guy." You laugh as he scoff, never the less putting his attention back into you.

"Ouch." "Maybe if you aren't playing around you wouldn't hurt yourself that much." You spoke, rolling your eyes as you tend his wounds in the clinic.

Oh and the two of you likes to gossip. Be it the different kind of news or gossip around the academy, you made sure to tell it to him. And not that he found those interesting, he just love the took on your face. The way your eyes sparkle in delight and interest. Cute, he thought.

The height and the size difference.

Others find it hard to figure out just what in the world did Gesimov seen in you and that he have chosen you of all the people admiring and dying to be with him from afar, be it the fact that he have came from a powerful background or thy trully just admire him.

Dating Glant means constantly being in the eyes of others. But you were never bullied tho, all they can do was to glare at you from the distance as you send a sly smirk in their way. Glant being fully aware of you action but talking no interest nor care about it.

It is like the cute dynamic of big soft boy but only when it comes to you × little devil. After all you, you were quite lowkey at first but the more you are with Glant the more your true colors started to show, making your fellow schoolmates realise how quietly terrifying you trully were and that you are being lowkey for a reason. Because as soon as they were to talk about Glant in a wrong way, a letter of challenge would be hand on them the following day, if not, an hour.

"You okay? You took another nap right after your father visit." "... did you cry?" "... no." "I'm sorry... I lost and made you worry. Other organisations would start to pre-" "Do you think I care about that? I don't give a fuck. Just take care of yourself more, I hate seeing you get hurt!" "...... Alright, I'm sorry." "Come here."

Dating Glant Gesimov means rubbing it to other faces that you don't care about them nor do you two give a fuck about them. After all, it was the two of you who was in the relationship and not them.

Cain Luterain ; Considered as one of the world's top 10 rookies, is a student of the world awakened academy. Has a mythical panter called Lacelot.

Enemies one sided to lovers trope period.

You always hated his guts, the way he talk so arrogant yet elegant. The way he held his head up knowing well his power and authority. You hate it. You always hated him who was always being compared to tou ever since you were younger. So why in the world as you making out with the same man you've hated for your whole lifetime? You don't know, but you knew damn well that he kisses so well.

Then it just clicked that maybe. Maybe you were in love with him. That not everything is just a competition when it comes to the two of you. And maybe the fact that he was in love with you too. Maybe that is why after that incident, the two of you started dating.

His panter loves you, maybe a little more than himself. It always cuddle up with you more it he did to his owner, always listen to your commands more than he did to his owner. "Seriously, just who's beast are you?" "Come on Cain, this is why he never listen to you without using your awakened power."

Just like Gesimov and his loverz the two of you likes to gossip and also roast and look down to other people. Imagine the shock on other people when the duo who kept acting like they wanted to kill each other acting all casual and lovely around each other. How surprising, trully a sight to see.

The two of you were always team up and was send off to a mission to crush some awakened academy that was illegally operated. Just call it one of those random date trips as the two of you have fun crushing other people dreams and passion with your awakened powers.

Loves to sneak out of the academy, addressing it as part of the mission when the two of you would just wander around, going out on a date like a typical teenage lover moment. He was nervous when the two of you have done it for the first time, but the more the two of you have gone out, the more he got used to it. It's not like the two of you would be caught.

"Cain." "What." "I'm bored." You turn to him who was casually sitting down on the opposite direction. Raising a brow at you, "What do you want me to do?" "Bark?" "Babe." "Just kidding, kiss me?" "You don't have to ask."

Of course dating Cain Luterain isn't just all sunshine, there were times where the two of you would get to a fight, probably due to some stupid reason. Mostly both of you pride getting in the of understanding each other.

"What are you doing here?" You glare at him on your door step but did not shut the door on his face. "I can't sleep, move out of the way." He made his way inside your room. "Cain." You groan, closing the door behind you. "You know you can't do this everytime we had a fight." "Let's talk about this tomorrow." He sigh before looking up to meet your gaze. "Come here?" "..." You went towards him.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

[frogchiro]

im super curious on which of the men do you think would be more than overjoyed to be tied naked to their bed, legs and arms spread, as reader grinds on his cock through lace panties or as she teases and teases him by letting her wetness drip down his cock to his balls as she rubs her clit over him? or by only putting the tip of his tip inside of her before reader bucks up, leaving his cock high and dry? the man growling, pulling on his restraints and bucking his hips higher and stronger to just get at least the full tip wet to at least feel reader's soaking pussy all around him. so so close to cumming all over her pussy he just needs her touch. desperate and hard whilst reader giggles so sweetly, continuing to moan as she reaches her fifth orgasm on and over him

very VERY unsure if you're comfortable with writing for an ask like this (more dominant female reader, teasing, restraints) so ofc if you're not comfortable, there's absolutely no stress!! much love <333

Oh my jesus nonnie I love you for this ;; I love dominant reader!! Her domming the usually cocky and overly confident big 'n scary military men and bringing them down a peg is my bread and butter. Also putting this under the cut since it turned out to be much longer than I intended ;;

For this one particular scenario I have a few candidates:

König who is this huge, unhinged killer machine, used literally as a human battering ram due to his size and strength and whom people generally tend to avoid due to his 'strange' jittery behavior. His blue eyes crinkle through his mask with boyish joy when he kills, sometimes even letting out an eerily high pitched giggle which off-puts people even more, not to mention he can be a hug dick when it comes to interactions with others; he's either awkward as hell or downright condescending and degrading with his arrogance.

However when it comes to you? The cute new hackergirl KorTac found and dragged in? He's a mess :(( He decided then and there thst he wanted you and would woo you and judging by the awkward fidgeting and shy glances at the older men around you, you'd be easy prey for him...Well until it was him, König, who ended up tied to his bed, moaning and yowling in pain and frustration as you continued to tease him, torture him really as he saw it, with that cute perfect giggle of yours as you continued to slowly jerk his fat cock, cum spurting from his swollen tip and his balls squeezing painfully because they needed to be emptied in the pretty female in front of him :(( It's been so so long, he wanted to claim you but it turned out that it was you who claimed him.

He'd try growling, snarling and even begging for you to please just put the tip inside, please fucking sit down and let him make you feel good but you just giggle at him before moving up and slipping his aching tip from your wet pussy for what felt like the 100th time making poor König whine and buck pathetically up, searching your heat </3

Next one is Simon Riley, but particularly Sleazy Neighbour!Simon. When he finally whined and 'wooed' you enough for you to finally have sex with him for the first time he was over the moon, a nasty smirk on his lips, elated that he finally will get to fuck and claim you all for himself, the first step at making you his wife after all!

What he didn't expect was for you to tie him down with his bulky arms straining against the biding at the headboard, his lengthy cock hard as a rock and leaking on his tummy as you slide your wet cunt all over but not putting it inside :(( It's driving the large male wild!! He was supposed to fuck you into oblivion, make you all whiny and teary, begging him to slow down as he bred you and called you his bitch but as it turned out, it's him who's the bitch now :(

You're having the time of your life, moaning and giggling at the blonde's misery as you slide your pussy against his swollen dick, the copious amount of your slick making the slide much easier and you get first class seat to watch your awful sleazy neighbour get what he deserves for bullying you and not letting him slip inside you <3

The last one is Andrei Nolan and this is something I also discussed with @justadeadreaper on him edging himself and begging you for your permission to cum which I think about expanding on in a different post <3

He both loves and hates this; this feeling of helplessness ad slight humiliation of being such a big and strong man but getting tied down to your shared bed and letting his girl edge him :(( Sounds so pretty toom his normally smooth and deep voice gaining a certain edge to it, deep rumbling moans showing his pleasure and the occasional hitch in his voice and a higher moan indicating that he's close to cumming if the sudden larger amount of sperm leaking from his red dick like a faucet didn't betray him first.

Growls and bares his teeth, gnashing them at your sweet giggle that hides all the evil intentions in your voice, asking him dumb innocent questions like 'Are you close Dyushka? Do you want to cum~?' Of course he fucking wants to cum! He wants to sit you on his fucking cock, slam it deep inside you until he feels your poor cervix and wants to fill you up until you're whining at him and leaking his seed for days but no, instead he's stuck like this, at your mercy as you continue to jerk him off, occasionally in a gesture of cruel mercy you lift yourself up and tease his achy tip at your cunt, rubbing it from your clit down to your hole where you circle it a few times, threatening to slip it in for a few agonizing seconds before letting out a breathy giggle and pulling him out again only to return to edging him with that sweet smile of yours. You're a cruel, cruel woman </3

[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.”

[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.”

.

[k9iriz]

Andrei x Reader???

[ merry christyler 🎄 😁 & I GOTCHU’ ]

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧’-𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧

18+

𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳/𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘪 𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘴

𝘴𝘺𝘱𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘱 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴.

warnings: 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦/𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯!, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬��𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩!, 𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥, 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘱 (wrap it before you tap it.)

it was a sunny normal saturday, where me and andrei had plans to go to my family reunion at my mom’s house.

i didn’t like them as much, but it was a good idea to have andrei meeting my family for the first time since he was so busy with football season.

i was fixing my matching black dress, before making sure my hair was in tact, —-bad idea to wear black if it’s hot?

i seen andrei laying on our shared bad—scrolling through his phone before he took a peak, biting his lip subtly.

“are you ready now?” andrei broke the silence and focus as he didn’t take his eyes off of me the entire time.

“yes. now cmon, we’re gonna be late.” i rushes as andrei followed behind, but slowly biting his lip as he seen my body, and ass move in the skintight dress.

he was mentally going crazy on the inside, but one way or another, he was gonna get her.

“you think we got a couple more minutes to spare before we leave?” andrei stepped in front of the door, making me squeal as i hit his chest.

“no we don’t, i know exactly what you wanna do, now—-andrei!” i squealed as he picked me up, gripping my thighs into his hands as he showered me in kisses, walking me back to the couch.

“i know you do, so don’t make me wait please.” andrei complained under his breath as he laid fell back into the couch, putting me down, manspreading into his seat.

holy fuck.

“andrei, if you don’t get in the car, before we’re late!” i whined as my phone buzzed, my sister asking me “was i close by?”

“and if you cmon, we won’t be as late.” andrei looked up at me before his hands rubbed from my middle back—to my ass, caressing it, planting kisses onto my stomach.

i shuttered a bit before playfully hit him. “if you cmon, ill give you some on the way there, deal?”

he didn’t resist a bit, being the one out the door fast enough, shaking my head as i began to leave. just hyper.

a 20 minutes later, we both arrived at my familt reunion as andrei trailed behind as happy, but nervous to meet your family.

i could feel now nervous he was. “calm down love, they are nice people…”

“okay…and what happened to our thing?” andrei whispered as he kept his smile present as we walked through the party.

“not now.” i responded as i hugged my sister, her smiling as she shook andrei’s hand, feeling the love from everyone, he calmed down much more after that.

“see, i told you.” i nudged him as i smile, andrei looked down at me, knowing he was gonna bring that up later.

a hot 30 minutes later, andrei went around talking to everyone, bonded with my mom really well and they were practically bestfriends by now.

andrei tried his best to keep his composure whenever I came around—or in general. that dress and looking so good while in it? drove him to a point where he didn’t care anymore.

the sun was setting and everyone was eating and talking, as andrei found me by the bathroom, immediately yanking me up, making me yelp.

andrei didn’t say a word, taking me into the guest room, locking the door as he planted me onto the bed, towering me instantly. lord.

“you just love making me wait, huh baby?” andrei bit his lip down at me, making me look at him.

the tension rose between the two as andrei got even anxious, his sex drive was higher than ever at that moment.

“no, i—” i began to protest before andrei shook his head, before he stood between my open legs, taking his hoodie off, leaving him shirtless.

i was taken back a bit, but intrigued as he began stripping himself from his pants as well, as i just stared at the entire interaction.

oh fuck…

“take your dress off, now.” andrei slightly demanded in a eager tone, not wasting any time as i did as told, leaving me completely naked.

andrei was a experimental freak at his best, placing my legs up at chest, making my knees touch them as he lined himself up with my entrance, slowly spitting on himself, rubbing it up and down, lubricating himself and me before i felt my eyes shut so fast, my head thrown back into the pillow above me

andrei let out a satisfying moan, that only was for my ears as he began stroking me slowly at first—as he grabbed my jaw, forcing my stare back onto him.

“look at me beautiful. fuck. you made me wait for what’s mines hm?” andrei began as he kept his eye-drooling stare on me, making me drool at the sight.

“o-oh fuck.” i felt my hands grip the pillow above me, not daring to keep my eyes off of him.

“oh my god…y/n.” andrei felt you tighten around him as my tits bounced at the pace his strokes became, making me sit up, staring at the now, wet and creamy mess underneath us.

“mnm…andrei.” i whimpered as i felt his hand wrap around my throat, sliding his thumb across my lips as the sounds of his pelvis crashing into me repeatedly bounced off the walls around us.

andrei had that stare, low-hooded eyes as he leaned down, kissing my lips repeated.

“that’s it, baby. give it to me, give it all to me. give me every last fucking drop.” andrei mumbled loud enough for me to hear as my moans grew louder, gladly it was music blasting throughout the house so they couldn’t hear me getting slutted out.

“a-andrei, that’s my spot b-baby…right—-oh shit!” i moaned as his hands rested besides my head, watching every single love face i made up underneath him as my hand make contact with his chest, him pushing it away.

his thumb began massaging my clit in a circular motion, as my body shook, covering my mouth to keep from the loudest moan from releasing, as i heard myself make my mess onto him, dripping onto the floor, onto the sheets and his lower abdomen.

“mhm…such a good girl for me, baby. just like that.” andrei praised me subtly as he picked me up, wanting to feel the warmth of me again.

andrei’s strong arms rapped around my legs, hoisting me up as his hands gripped my ass, moving me up and down his dick with ease as i wrapped my arms his neck.

the energy shifted as he fucked me me in place, walking around the room as the skin clappings grew louder, making my moans, screams & whimpers cloud the room.

“you wanna make me cum baby?” andrei panted as the stickiness made gushing noises, nodding my head as i tightened around him again, catching me as my mouth slacked.

“ouuu shit! i love you so fucking much baby, fuck! fuck me just like that..” i whimpered the last part as my cries grew louder as he sped up, knowing he was chasing his own high, throwing his head back as well.

“mhm, say my name, just like that baby. fuck, shit im close.” andrei grunted.

our moans were in sync as he called out my name louder and louder, before he put me down, me landing on my knees as he moaned louder and louder, stroking himself as he grunted loudly, feeling his nut splatter all over my lips, smearing the leftovers on them, sultry.

“oh y/n…” andrei breathed out as he caught his breath, grabbing me by my throat as he sloppily kissed me, tasting himself on me before he looked down at me.

“we gotta do that more often. cmon, ill find a towel…and a change of sheets.” andrei chuckled as he carried me to the bathroom, cleaning me up with hot water.

as we changed the sheets and gathered ourselves, we walked back into the kitchen as my mom and sister were met with us, waving.

“where were you guys? it was time to eat!” my mom chuckled as my sister eyed me up and down sipping her juice, realizing my walk looked a little funny.

“im sorry ms.y/l/n. we were taking a nap, got a little tired, but we can eat now.” andrei apologized as we sat by each other, as she sat our plates in front of us, eating as andrei side-eyed me the entire time.

“thought you guys were the ones making all those noises up there, maybe not.” my mom chuckled.

“oh you were right, but it wasn’t me.” andrei mumbled as i looked over at him.

“mhm…nasties” my sister trailed off.

[ CAME IN CLUTCH FOR YALL! give me more ideas or ill riot. not reread so excuse mistakes. ]

— • TAGLIST: @egomuse & @glitter-vamp

[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.

[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*

[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.”

[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?"

[swiftsmlb]

dating andrei iosivas includes

warnings: alludes to smut, mentions of sex. mentions of jealousy.

andrei being the best boyfriend

supporting one another, always

andrei buying you flowers

andrei buying you his jersey

and don’t you dare wear someone else’s. that’s a bad idea

you only wear HIS and HIS jersey only

andrei gets jealous so easily

you are his and his only

if he sees you talking with a man he doesn’t know? oh it’s over

“just wait until we get home, babygirl.”

“i’ll show you who you belong to.”

neck kisses

hickies, from him

holding hands, always

being there for him after tough losses

and being there for the biggest wins

after-game sex, pregame sex.

cuddles 24/7

andrei praising you

“you’re so beautiful, ya know that?”

loves to show you off

you love to bake together

he loves to cook for you.

dinner dates

gym dates

going to every home game, and close game.

[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.

-

[frogchiro]

....if you dont mind the addition of makarov...

but..

makarov would order andrei to fuck you (his wife/secretary/another favorite soldier) in front of him

I'm so glad you asked this nonnue because he absolutely would!!

I'd set this in the universe where Hackergirl was rescued together with Makarov because he became obsessed with her and needed to have her not only as an asset but also a companion.

Makarov would not let you out of his sight, always keep you next to him glued to his side because he's paranoid someone is going to take you away from him.

But, he noticed that you started building a closer relationship with his right hand, Andrei. The relation between you two seemed to develop really quickly and naturally, whenever you weren't by Vladimir's side then you could be found by Andrei's. And while jealousy and possession reared its head inside Makarov, he knew that Andrei was gentler, calmer, more welcoming with such a skittish thing like you, soft. He saw Andrei nudge and nuzzle against you, bump you with his shoulder, his boisterous laugh echoing through the base when he sat with you as you looked at the auburn haired male with gentle eyes and expression and Makarov knew that the feelings were there and he'd lie of he said that Andrei wasn't his other favorite.

Imagine Makarov making Andrei fuck you (who does it at first shyly because...well, you're Makarov's girl and that is Vladimir we're talking about) but watching him like a hawk, sitting next to you while smoking his cigarette and giving rumbly, low instructions; how Andrei should move his hips to give you the most pleasure, how to elevate your hips to get all those good, deep angles.

Makarov would slide up behind the bigger male, hands moving up and down Andrei's well build torso, down to the contracting muscles of his belly as he caresses the skin there, feeling how the muscles jump and twitch at both his touch and the movement as he continues to thrust up in 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.

[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.”

[lilmissnoobster]

Andrei Nolan NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Andrei is a sucker for cuddling. Would lay on his back with your head on his chest calming down from the intense moment.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his arms, the muscles he has built up over the years of serving in the military makes it easier to manhandle you into positions that he likes.

He loves your thighs; squeezing, pinching, gripping all of it! Would deem it an honor to be suffocated by them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Deep in you for sure! If you’re not into that then he’ll pull out and cum on your entrance.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He fantasizes about a threesome with the two of you and Makarov. The thought of you between the two of them makes him feral.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Pretty average experience, knows a good deal about the body to give you more pleasure.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press. Being able to manhandle you into the position while guaranteeing he can cum deep into you while getting a good view of your face.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Mid-serious, he doesn’t have much time due to being second in command so he cherishes the time he has with you. Will still laugh if something humorous happens.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Keeps it trimmed, not overly bushy but not clean-shaven.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He looks at you like you hung the stars. Worships you and your body like it’s his last day on earth.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not often due to his schedule, will send videos of himself doing it though to let you know that you’re on his mind.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Power-play, rigging, praise with hidden degradation, choking, brat taming, edging, and overstimulation.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom, but won’t complain if you end up in a closet or bathroom stall.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you in tight clothes.His main motivation is seeing you in his shirt and a pair of tight booty shorts.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that could endanger your life if not well versed. Gunplay, knifeplay, choke collars. Does not like you not being able to communicate with him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Is a mix of both, loves seeing you on your knees infront of him. But enamored by your taste, loves being crushed by your thighs when he does.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Likes to start slow, then builds it up until the bed starts to roughly shake like your thighs would be afterwards.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sees them as a godsend. With how busy he is he loves releasing stress with his beautiful partner.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Only after research is done, does not like to try something new without seeing the risks and benefits.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

About three rounds, this Aussie man has the endurance to make them last a while though.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Sees toys as a plus, loves seeing how much pleasure he can get from you with a vibrator.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Is a fair teaser, knows that you will have to wait for him to have a chance to get away long enough.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Grunts and groans, talks you through it, occasionally moans if he is overstimulated. Has whimpered before when you take control and tease him for a while.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Used to have a Prince Albert piercing, removed it when he enlisted though for safety reasons.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Muscular body with a short, thick cock. Average length but nicely thick to stretch you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty normal, gets pent up if he doesn’t release about three times a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

When he is done comforting you he dozes off after about ten minutes.

[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.