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mendeshoney · 8 months

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apple of my eye, take a bite

A/N: surprise surprise! this is a part two to "a taste of the devine," with a special little halloween twist! to my lovelies, @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech happy halloween babes! the title is inspired by lyrics from the song “eve” by precious pepala

Summary: You and Andrei go to the team Halloween party at a club, and it takes Andrei down memory lane.

Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader

Word Count: 5,120

Warnings: five year age gap, older woman x younger man, fluff, previously established dynamics (including msub x fdom dynamics, switch, mdom x fsub dynamics), smut, semi-public sex (in a club), hints of biting/hickies, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex

Russian terms used (bearing in mind the author does not speak Russian and definitely Google’d these) can be referenced here.

“I feel like this won’t make much sense,” Andrei quietly mumbles to himself, adjusting the ‘hat’ of his costume, his eyes casting to the side once he sees movement from inside the closet.

The sliding frosted glass door is closed, so he can only see your shadow as you move around, and he can feel himself start to get antsy.

You’d kept your part of the couples costume a shrouded secret from him, claiming you wanted to surprise him.

As far as surprises go, he typically liked yours a lot, but given his current predicament, he found himself a little more anxious than normal.

He glances at himself in the vanity mirror in your shared bedroom, running a cursory hand over the fuzzy material of his Halloween costume, and frowning a little at his reflection.

“Kroshka, I don’t-” He starts, cutting himself off and turning back toward the closet when he hears the sliding door open.

You finally emerge, body in an emerald green mini dress that you’d sewed fake vines onto so that they curled and twisted around your figure, enhancing your silhouette, vines trailing down your shoulder and around your arms until they rested delicately on your wrists. Those beautiful legs of yours donned a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly.

You looked a lot more like that character that Evgeny used to tease him for having a crush on when they were kids, Poison Ivy, than you did the biblical Eve.

Sukin syn.

Andrei’s hard in seconds, heart pounding furiously as his stomach flutters.

Babochki, he thinks. Butterflies.

He laughs suddenly, feeling nervous out of the blue.

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body a little so he can get a better view.

“I think there’s butterflies in my stomach,” he says honestly, the words coming out faster than he can process, but when you flush deeply, he feels a twinge of satisfaction.

“You still have a way with words, don’t you?” You tease, trying to look anywhere else but him, and he knows that strategy.

Sometimes, when you’re not sure how to receive his compliments, you try to brush them off, but tonight’s not a night Andrei can let that fly.

He can feel his hands twitching at his sides, and his feet are moving towards you before he even realizes, that familiar gravitational pull too strong to resist.

“Ty vyglyadish' krasivo, lyubov' moya.” He murmurs. You look beautiful, my love.

You smile at his words, his hands coming to rest on your waist and pull you closer. “Spasibo, malysh.” You finally seem to take in his costume, and you giggle lightly. “You look so cute!”

He frowns, brows pinched together. “I’m glad you think so.”

You smile, giggling a little more. “Of course I think so.”

“Remind me again why I couldn’t just be ‘Adam’ for Halloween?” He asks, fingers playing with a fake vine on your shoulder.

“Because no one cares about Adam,” you remind him gently. “The story’s about Eve and the Apple. Adam’s just there.”

Andrei pouts a little, turning back toward the mirror and staring at the apple suit that covers his upper half, the red hat on his head with the apple’s stem and a little leaf, and the dark brown pants on his legs. “I guess so,” he laments, then turns his gaze back to you.

You know him so well at this point that when the corner of your mouth quirks up in a small smile, he isn’t even surprised, and just smiles right back at you. “Don’t worry, shchenok, everyone still thinks you’re sexy.”

“I don’t care about everyone,” he says without a second’s hesitation. “Just you.”

A small flush works its way up your neck and cheeks. “I still think you’re sexy, too.”

Andrei’s heart pounds then, that familiar disbelief that he was able to call someone like you the love of his life surfacing in his chest. He bends his head, pride surging through his veins when you accept his kiss.

“We should probably go soon,” you murmur against his mouth.

Andrei hums, shrugging. “Or we could stay home. Have our own little Halloween party.”

“Not an option, I’m afraid.” You say, and pull yourself out of his arms to head back into the closet. He watches, completely entranced, as you pull on a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly, and he can feel himself start to tent in his pants.

“Kroshka,” he tries again, the word nearly getting caught in his throat, “Are you sure we can’t just-”

You cut him off by standing, grabbing your small clutch and his car keys, tossing a curt “Let’s go, moye yabloko” over your shoulder as you head to the garage.

Andrei glances at himself in the mirror one last time, offering his reflection a long-suffering sigh, before grabbing his wallet and trailing after you.

His teammates don’t laugh as much as he expected, which he supposes is because out of all the costumes tonight, he looks the least ridiculous.

Jesperi, Teuvo, and Sebastian are dressed as Alvin and the Chipmunks - Jesperi was elected to be Theo against his will, Teuvo gladly accepted the role of Simon because it meant he was the smartest, which left Sebastian as Alvin, who claimed it was only fair since his last name began with an ‘A’ - Freddie, Anti, Jacob, and Brett dressed up as Michaelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, and Rafael from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Brent was dressed as Sully from Monsters Inc, and those were just the costumes he managed to figure out on his own.

There were far too many others for him to keep track of or understand and some were just a headache to look at, so he ended up focusing on the one thing he knew would keep his attention - the way your ass moved in your dress as you walked through club toward the VIP section they’d reserved for the team party.

The girls complimented you on your outfit and assured Andrei that he looked cute instead of silly, and it only made him feel marginally better.

He was still dressed as a giant apple for the night, after all, while his bombshell of a girlfriend looked like a walking fantasy.

After you’d said hello to everyone, the two of you ended up separated, the girls heading out to the dancefloor, some of the guys heading to the bar to grab drinks and snacks, and the rest settling into the VIP section.

Andrei plopped down between Jesperi and Freddie, removing his costume’s hat and putting it on the little table in their section, tuning out most of the conversation happening within the first ten minutes and instead finding himself focused on you and that beautiful dress out on the dance floor.

His eyes were glued to you as you danced, lost in the familiar way your hips moved and how carefree you were. Other people may have needed a little bit of alcohol in them to be so uninhibited, but you didn’t. You never had.

Watching you now, it reminds him of the first night he met you.

It had been earlier this year, when the guys had been having a particularly rough week of games, and they’d gone out to a club to relieve some stress.

You’d been there with some of your friends, and Andrei had been feeling a little bit too confident after a few drinks. He’d locked eyes with you barely ten minutes after he’d arrived and couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole night, couldn’t seem to find the need to wander more than ten feet out of your orbit.

He finally found the courage to approach you after Martinook had all but threatened to send Freddie after you first, pushing off the bar and heading over to you.

He tried the gentlemanly approach, introduced himself properly by taking your hand, and from that first touch there was this crazy electric wildfire of sexual tension that neither of you seemed to be able to deny. You didn’t seem disturbed by him being five years younger than you, and he couldn’t have cared any fucking less about you being twenty eight.

He worried for maybe half a second about you not being able to understand him through his accent, but you had no problems with it, even beyond the blaring music of the club. Then, he offered to get you a drink or a bottle of water - whatever you wanted really, he didn’t care - before asking if you minded if he joined you for a dance.

One dance became two, then four, then six, and then the next thing he knew, you both had locked yourselves in a storage closet down the back hall of the club and he had you pinned against the wall, his jeans and boxer briefs around his thighs, your dress hiked up to your waist, thong pulled to the side, and his cock buried so deep inside of you that you had to bite down on the meaty flesh of his shoulder to keep from crying out too loudly.

You’d fucked twice in that closet before you took him back to your place and fucked another two times. In the morning, you’d managed to contain yourselves in the shower, but Andrei lost all restraint and licked your pussy on your kitchen table until your throat grew hoarse and your legs shook so much your table started to squeak.

He managed to rein it in and take you on a date two days later, and then you invited him out for dinner another three days after that. After about ten dates without any sexual interactions at all, and about a month in total of you actually knowing each other, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, and you both celebrated when you said ‘yes’ to him by locking yourselves in at his place and fucking like bunnies for about two days.

Andrei had learned everything about what you liked in bed in that first month, and you’d learned everything about what he liked.

You’d also learned enough about one another that Andrei was pretty sure he’d end up marrying you and having about five or seven kids within the next seven years, because there was no possible way he’d ever manage to find someone as brilliant as you ever again.

And at this point, you’d barely been dating a year.

He’d say he was probably moving too fast in any other circumstance, but he was pretty sure you were on the same page.

He feels a nudge in his side, and Andrei glances over, momentarily shocked because he’d completely forgotten his friends were dressed in costumes, and the orange fabric around Freddie’s eyes nearly scared him shitless for a second.

“You want another drink? The chipmunks lost a bet so they’re buying for the night.” Freddie says, gesturing to where Jesperi had gotten up and was now writing down orders on his phone.

“Sure,” Andrei says. “I’ll take one.”

Jesperi points to where you are on the dance floor and asks Andrei “One for her too, right?”, and when Andrei nods, Jesperi gives him a thumbs up before stalking over to the bar.

He has a feeling it’s going to take Jesperi awhile to put in the drink orders for the whole section, so Andrei resumes watching you, reminiscing on the day you first met and chiming in on the conversations around him every now and again.

You finally wander over with the girls once the drinks arrive, and Andrei immediately opens his arms, feeling content when you settle into his embrace and onto his lap. He hands you your drink, careful to keep your hair out of your face when you take a sip.

There’s a sound of fake retching, and you and Andrei cut your eyes to where Jesperi’s making faces at the two of you. You roll your eyes, settling into Andrei a little more, and he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you to him.

“Jealous, KK?” One of the other girls asks, and Jesperi’s nose scrunches.

“Hardly.” He scoffs. “I’m basically watching my older sister make out with one of my best friends. It’s disturbing.”

Andrei feels you stiffen in his arms, but Jesperi’s already turning away, and Andrei squeezes you gently. “Zajka?”

You turn to Andrei, a slightly stunned expression on your face. “I…does he really think of me that way?”

“What way?” Andrei asks, bringing a hand up to gently caress your cheek.

He can see the shock starting to settle in a little more. “Like an older sister?”

And though Andrei knows they’ve never really talked about it, because it’s not really a topic that would come up, he knows for certain the answer is yes.

Especially after the way you looked after everyone during the beach trip this past summer, all Andrei heard for weeks during training camp and preseason was how much everyone missed your cooking, people asking how you were doing, and demands for him to bring you around more.

Since you’d barely been together for six months at that point, he didn’t push you about it at all because he didn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, even though he knew you liked everyone just fine. It was another thing he felt like would make it feel like this was going too fast, even though you’d probably be on the same page about this, too.

“I think a lot of them think that way.” He admits. “Pretty sure Freddie thinks of you as a younger sister. Burnsy too, to be honest.”

There’s a thoughtful look in your eyes now, and after a beat, you nod. “I didn’t know that.”

“Is that…is that okay?” He asks, slightly unsure. He doesn’t know that he’s seen you this…contemplative before.

You turn to Andrei, and give him that dazzling smile of yours he loves so much. “Of course it’s okay. Just took me by surprise a little.”

He nods, sitting up a little more so he can press a kiss to the base of your neck. “They love you as much as I do.”

Andrei’s surprised when his kiss makes you shiver a little, and he pulls back a bit, raising a brow at you.

You flush, suddenly bashful. “I just…” He raises a brow when you seem to be trying to find the words to say, and you gesture with your head towards the dancefloor. “Feels familiar, doesn’t it?”

Realization hits Andrei and he smiles, nodding. “It does, zajka.”

A sly, cheshire smile works its way onto your lips, and Andrei feels his heart begin to pound in anticipation. “Let’s see just how well you can tempt me a second time, moye yabloko.”

You’re downing the rest of your drink and getting up from his lap faster than he can blink, and then you’re heading back out to the dancefloor with the girls.

As Andrei watches you walk away, he catches the wink you send him over your shoulder before you disappear into the crowd, and he smirks to himself.

Da nachnetsya igra.

Let the games begin.

Drink in hand, Andrei makes his way through the crowd, his puffy apple costume coming in hand by parting the crowd a little as he moves - he even has the ridiculous hat on again - until he finally reaches where you are in the middle of the dance floor.

He taps gently on your shoulder, and when you turn around, your eyes look up at him curiously, a small smile on your face.

Andrei leans down so you can hear him better, saying “Hi, I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, and I thought I’d introduce myself and bring you a drink.”

It’s not exactly what he said that first night, but it’s close enough. So what if he skipped a few cheesy lines?

You lean back a little, staring at the drink in his hand before taking it with a small amount of hesitation. “Thank you,” you say back, leaning in like he had. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

“I’m Andrei,” he says, holding his hand out.

You take it, shaking it once when you tell him your name in return.

The nostalgia has those butterflies resurfacing in his stomach, and he tries his best not to smile like a total idiot. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You say, then smirk a little at his costume. “You know, I’m pretty sure I was warned to stay away from you.”

He laughs a little, stepping closer into your space. Bending down so he’s right next to your ear, he rests a hand on your waist and says “One bite won’t hurt.”

At your responding chuckle, Andrei feels goosebumps ignite on his arms. “I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s different this time,” he promises. “It’s just us. And there’s no punishment.”

“Sounds a little too good to be true,” you say, pulling away a little and taking a sip of your drink, blinking up at him from under your lashes.

Andrei rights himself, shrugging. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?” He gestures with his head towards a hallway that he’d confirmed about ten minutes ago had both a storage closet as well as what looked like an unused office full of boxes, but still came equipped with a couch and a perfectly solid desk.

He makes his way toward the hall, waiting for all of five minutes before you appear in front of him, the glass your drink was in now empty save for the cherry stem he already knew had a knot in it.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you joke, taking careful steps toward him.

He holds a hand out, pleased when you take it, and he leads you toward the end of the hall. The door to the storage closet is on the left, and the door to the empty office is on the right. He places you in front of him, his hands resting on your waist from behind.

“Pick a door, zajka.” He says softly.

You hum a little, taking a step forward. You open the door on the right first, but there’s a small noise that leaves you, and Andrei’s confused when you don’t take a step inside. You open the door to the left, and the second you see the closet, you spin around, smiling wickedly at him before pulling him inside.

He flips you the second he crosses the threshold, shutting the door and locking it before pinning you against the wood, placing his arms on either side of your head. “Didn’t like the office?”

You shake your head, tilting your chin up, waiting. “Not the same.”

“I would’ve liked fucking you on the desk.” He admits, the image of it still fresh in his brain.

“You didn’t fuck me on a desk till I moved in with you.” You remind him.

He smirks. “Oh I remember,” he promises. “Hard to forget the time you made me come so hard I almost passed out.”

You shrug. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

He drops one of his hands from the door only to bring it up between you, running a finger down the side of your neck, to your collarbone, your chest, before teasing at the neckline of your dress.

“If you rip this dress before you get me in your bed, moye yabloko, you’ll be sorry.” You warn, but even so, your back arches off the wall, pushing your chest into his touch.

Andrei smirks. He’s never been one to shy away from his punishments.

Instead, he trails his hand down your dress and to the hem, pushing it up your thighs until he can reach under it to bring his fingers to your core, pleased when he finds the fabric of your thong already soaked.

“May I, moya koroleva?” He asks sweetly, eyes focused on where his hand lingers.

You nod, breath hitching a little when he pulls your thong to the side and runs his finger between your folds. “I want it like the first time.”

Andrei blinks, eyes darting back up to your face.

That first night was intense - and beautiful - but also not the kind of sex the two of you have most often. He likes to please you, likes taking his time warming you up or worshiping you the way he’s learned that you like best. Other than the occasional quickie, you two rarely ever just get straight to it.

“Can you take me like this? Right now?” He checks.

“I can,” you say. You reach forward, fingers finding one of the belt loops of his pants and pulling him forward. “Please, malysh. I don’t want to wait.”

His heart beats hard against his ribcage.

It’s rare that you’re the one pleading for him, that you’re the one asking for it this way, and he can feel the way his breath starts to stutter as he tries to maintain his composure.

The second he nods in agreement, it’s a race to get inside of you.

In a hurry, the two of you work to unbutton and unzip his pants, shuffling them down his thighs along with his boxer briefs. His aching cock springs free, and before you can reach for him, he’s bending down to lift you up and pin you against the wall, helping to wrap your legs around his waist.

He balances you in one arm as you press your weight into the wall, reaching down to line his cock up to your entrance. The second he can feel it catch, he presses in at the same time that you angle your hips downward, and he pushes until he’s seated all the way inside and his hips press yours against the wall.

You take a gasping breath, head lolling back as your eyes squeeze shut, arms flying to his shoulders and nails digging into the skin as your pussy grips him tightly.

“Zajka?” He asks, worried. “Are you okay?”

You nod, breathing harshly through your nose. “Move, malysh, spasibo. I need you.”

Andrei has a sudden feeling he’s going to have a hard time trying to remember to breathe if you keep talking.

Carefully, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock rests inside, and then he pushes back inside in one brutal stroke that seizes the breath from your lungs once more.

“Just like the first time,” he reminds you, before setting a rough and steady pace.

Your moans fill the room in seconds, and Andrei doesn’t care anymore about who can hear you or who can’t.

Especially when he knows you couldn’t care less about it either.

This time, you’re not at Freddie’s house and worried about making a good impression.

You’re here, with him, pretending like it’s the first night you met all over again, except this time there’s less to be cautious of for both of you.

Although…

If you do want it like it’s the first time again…

“You can’t moan too loud, kroshka.” He says, pressing in closer to you as his strokes slow a little, dragging himself in and out of you with precision. “Don’t want anyone to hear how pretty you are when you’re dripping on my cock, do you?”

Recognition flashes in your eyes like a bright flame, and you capture your lip between your teeth, nodding obediently.

“Need something to bite down on, my beautiful Eve?” He murmurs, gathering you up in his arms and pushing until he’s flush against you, tilting his head to expose his neck. “Do it, it’s okay.”

You wind your arms around his shoulder and lean forward, and when Andrei feels your lips on his neck, his whole body shivers, groaning at the way he can feel your teeth bite down before licking over the wound, then sucking a bruise into the skin.

That’s another thing the two of you don’t give a shit about anymore.

Andrei’s all too proud to wear your marks like a badge of honor, so as you suck on his skin, feeling his pulse beneath your tongue, he knows you take notice of the way his cock drives deeper into you.

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to manage a second round in this closet, too desperate to fill you up and then drag you home so he can do it over and over again.

When his hips stutter a little, you finally pull away from his neck, leaning back to examine your work, smiling proudly. “Such a pretty little thing, moye yabloko.”

Fuck.

It is just like the first night all over again.

Andrei remembers the dirty things you whispered to him then, too. He remembers how he’d never heard something so sultry, so sexy in his entire life. It somehow made him hornier, made him feel like he could go insane with how much it made him need you even more in that moment.

It was like you knew exactly what to say and what to do to drive him insane, to make him feel like he would do anything to prove to you just how good he could be.

“You’re the same good boy you were that first night, too,” You taunt again when he doesn’t respond, and a sharp hiss falls from his lips when you tug his hair harshly, prompting him to tilt his head up so he can look at you.

His knees nearly buckle, and he thrusts hard into you once in warning.

“You can’t say things like that,” he breathes out, focusing on fucking into you in deep, hard strokes.

“Why?” You breathe out, bringing your hands from his shoulders and tossing the hat of his costume off of his head before sinking your fingers into his hair.

He shakes his head. Any other man might be embarrassed, but that’s never been a thing between the two of you, and especially not when you’re being intimate.

“It makes me…u menya babochki.” Andrei admits, trying his best to stay focused. I get butterflies.

“Babochki?” You ask, tone just shy of a whine, slightly mocking him. “Do I give my pretty shchenok butterflies?”

He looks up when he feels your hand on his cheek, staring into your eyes, and he can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm just looking at you. You run your thumb over his lips as they part, resting the pad of it on his tongue before his cheeks hollow, sucking gently on the digit.

You smirk, eyes rolling back in your head when Andrei gives a particularly hard thrust, causing your back to arch a little more and your body to press further against his. He can tell you’re getting closer, can read all your little tells.

The way your chest starts to heave, how he can see your nipples starting to poke through the fabric of your dress, the way your body starts to go lax, thumb slipping from his mouth and hand moving to rest on his chest instead.

“You gonna come for me?” You ask, tone somewhere between taunting and begging.

Andrei nods furiously, welcoming the molten lava spreading across his spine as he finds solace inside of you. “Da, moya koroleva.”

“Gonna come inside of me?” This question is definitely a taunt. “Gonna fill up the pretty stranger the very first night?”

“I did it once,” he reminds you. “I’d do it again, but only for you.”

Your blinding, satisfied smile takes over your face and Andrei feels his heart fall to your feet in adoration. “Come with me,” he begs.

You nod, tilting your hips a little until he’s hitting that beautiful spot inside, and your eyes flutter shut, pussy squeezing tighter around him.

He loses all control after that, cock pounding into you in a frenzied, nearly manic pace, trying so hard to keep going for you while also chasing his own orgasm.

When he feels you lock him in that familiar death grip, your come drenching his cock and making the slide oh so right, his eyes squeeze shut, and a loud, satisfied groan leaves his mouth as he throbs, spilling inside of you until he feels like he can’t breathe right.

For a moment, the two of you can only remain like that - you slumped and sated in Andrei’s arms and his hips pinning you to the wall.

When he feels you begin to squirm, he carefully pulls out of you, then sets you back on your own two feet as gently as he can. He’s quick to locate a stack of paper towels behind him and grabs a few to help you clean up before pulling your thong back into place and tossing the paper towels into a trash can near the door.

“Do I look okay?” You ask, fussing with your dress.

Andrei nods, letting out a content sigh. “Beautiful as always. What about me?”

When you glance up at him, Andrei’s expecting the same, but then you blink, and a surprised laugh practically barks out of you. It startles him a little, and your hand is flying to cover your mouth, eyes glistening with delight.

“What?” He presses, starting to fuss with his own costume. “What is it?”

“Drei, how hard did you come?” You ask through fits of giggles.

“You said like the first night, so pretty hard.” He admits, unashamed. “Why?”

“You’re…you’re…” You can barely say it through your laughter. After a second, you take a deep breath, calming yourself, and then smile at him happily. “You’re as red as an apple.”

If he - apparently - wasn’t already red, he definitely would be by now.

“How bad is it?” Andrei asks, rubbing at his face absently.

You shrug. “No better and no worse than after a shift on the ice.”

He pouts, brows furrowing. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“It’s normal,” you explain. “It might be tough to explain away when we say goodbye to everyone in a minute, but it’ll be alright.”

“We’re going home?” He asks, already excited.

You nod, shrugging your shoulders a little. “Pretty sure that’s what we did the first night, too.”

He smirks, stepping closer to you and pulling you to him by your waist. “We did a lot of things that first night. And the next morning.”

Your own cheeks flush now, and you nod. “That we did.”

“Feel like a trip down memory lane, kroshka?” He murmurs, already leaning down.

You rise up on your tiptoes, lips brushing against his when you say “I think that sounds lovely, malysh,” before kissing him softly.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov smut #carolina hurricanes #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut #mendeshoney masterlist

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senditcolton · 3 months

Text

I Hope I Never Lose You

song inspo: random instrumentals (although this is the music for the dance scene) word count: 4.5k warnings: none, just pure romance

a/n: what started as a response to a request - a request not even directed at me specifically - has turned into an entire storyline and universe that i have completely fallen in love with. so, tiff (@smileysvech), thank you for planting the concept of Prince Andrei into my head. and a very happy birthday. 👑💙

In all the months of your investiture, the castle had never felt this alive. Usually, a ball brought in a large amount of excitement – the promise of music, food, and dancing, all which made for a palpable atmosphere. But this evening was different.

Although, if one took into consideration the fact that Carolyna’s eldest prince had returned from his year-long voyage at sea, the enthusiasm that seemed to bleed from the palace walls was completely understandable.

You had spent most of your day dodging other servants running down the hallways, arms filled with bundles cloth napkins and boxes of candles. Part of you was thankful that you were not requested to paint during the ball itself, the new portrait of Prince Evgeny deemed enough. You told yourself that you more than content to stay in your bedchambers all night sketching or reading.

However, there was a slight longing to be in attendance. To be able to see the ballroom aglow with golden candlelight, the swirl of color from the ballgowns, and feel the joy radiating from the guests at the return of their Prince.

You also wanted to see Andrei’s face when he was reunited with his brother. If you had been charged with painting anything that night, that was the moment that you would’ve captured.

Wiping your paint-stained hands off on the cloth hanging from the easel, you glance at the clock. The doors had just opened for the ball – you could hear the chatter of guests and the distant sound of trumpets wafting down the halls, sneaking into your enclosed studio. You sigh, taking in your current work in progress, debating whether you should stay here for the night or come back later.

Eventually, you decide leaving was the best option: go back to your bedchamber for a nap and some food before returning. Maybe later, when the ball is in full swing and hectic, Andrei could sneak away and visit you. It is a hope that you know is far-fetched, at least for tonight. Andrei loved and missed his brother more than anything. He wouldn’t leave in the middle of the celebration thrown specifically for Evgeny.

Still, one could dream.

As you sneak down the halls, avoiding the arrival of the guests, your mind toys with the fantasy of Andrei slipping through your studio door. He would look so handsome in his regalia, the medals hanging from his chest.

You wish that you could see him tonight.

That is the dream you hold onto as you push through the doors to the servants’ quarters – a dream that is quickly interrupted by a shriek of your name falling from the lips of one of your closest friends. You barely have a chance to turn around before Svetlana is barging into you, her calloused fingers digging into your upper arms.

“You are never going to believe this,” the younger girl yells, pulling you through the common area towards your bedchamber, despite your attempts to reign her in.

“Lana, slow down. What is going on?”

“You’ll see,” she replies, continuing to drag you down the hallway. A few curious glances are tossed in your direction as well as jealous looks cast at you from some of the other girls. You are uncertain where their anger is coming and why it is directed at you from until Svetlana stops in front of your room.

“Look!” she declares, swinging your door open and your jaw drops when you see the embroidered fabric laying on your bed.

You walk in, your eyes dancing over the ballgown splayed over the sheets. It is beautiful; the stark white contrasting beautifully with the velvet overlay, shimmering in your favorite color. The metallic floral embroidery dances across the fabric, trailing up from the trim of the skirt and the long sleeves to transform into a full garden on the bodice.

“I mean, I was helping the master seamstress embroider those flowers but I honestly thought this was for the Queen or one of the other ladies of the court but it was made for you?! That’s insane! The Prince’s personal guard dropped it off earlier today and I had to, like, stand watch outside your door to stop the other girls for obvious reasons and - ”

“Wait,” you say, interrupting Lana’s ranting. “The Prince’s personal guard?”

“Yeah! What’s his name?” Lana says, her eyebrows furrowing. “Pasha? Petrov?”

“Pyotr,” you whisper, your hands running over the gown’s material.

“Pyotr! That’s it.” Lana says, walking over to stand behind you. “Why did you get a dress?”

“I guess my attendance is wanted at the ball.”

“But you’re clearly not painting. Or at least you shouldn’t be in a gown this fine.”

“I don’t know,” you say, the words not a total lie. The information that Pytor delivered this stunning gown had you guessing that it was Andrei extended the invitation. But that was still merely a hunch. “Perhaps they want to have me there when Prince Evgeny’s portrait is presented.”

“Well, maybe I should’ve gotten into painting instead of sewing,” Lana teases as she playfully jostles your shoulder. Your eyes finally tear away from the gown, meeting with her sparkling hazel ones.

“Can you help me put it on?”

“Of course! We have to be fast; the ball has already started!”

Lana flies into a flurry, locking the door and turning to you. Her voice is a comforting metronome and you follow her instructions as she helps you into the dress. You are thankful she was there; not just because she was a seamstress and knew how to properly lace you into the gown but because her excited buzzing made the storm of anxiety in your mind quiet.

This had to be a dream, one that you were surely going to wake from at any moment. Your job as a painter was to be out of sight. The only knowledge of your existence to anyone outside of the royal family and the other servants were the painted canvases hanging on the castle walls. But now, here you were, wearing a gown that you couldn’t hope to possess even in your wildest fantasies.

Once you were fully dressed, Lana moves to your hair, retying it into a more elegant updo than the pulled back hairstyle it was placed in earlier. She doesn’t stop there, adding a tiny pat of butter to your face, smoothing your eyebrows and moisturizing your skin. She even manages to paint a bit of color onto your cheeks and lips with a piece of beetroot.

“You’re lucky that it was beets instead of radishes tonight,” she teases with a wink.

“Thank you, Lana. I could’ve never done this without you.”

“Well, maybe you could tell the royal family that the seamstresses should get an invite too. Considering their finery wouldn’t exist without us,” she quips as she smears the honey onto your lips, the gloss reflecting the light from the small candle on your bedside table.

“I’ll make sure to pass on the message,” you reply, your tone light but the words sincere. Lana didn’t know that you had the ear of the Crown Prince, one of the few men who could make that happen.

“You better,” she grins, stepping away. Her eyes rove over your face and body, admiring her handiwork before turning to look at you fully. “Perfect. You look absolutely beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you do. You’ll be the belle of the ball. All the other maidens will burn with jealousy. Trust me.”

“I kind of have to considering we have no mirrors.”

“Would I ever steer you wrong?” Lana laughs, extending her hand to help lift you off the bed. “Now, come on! We’ve got to get you to the ballroom quick, before the entire party is over.”

You are ushered you out of your personal quarters and through the common room, Svetlana trailing behind you, holding up the hem your skirt to not sully the fine material. Her vocal haste pushes you to quickly jog down the halls towards the ballroom, your combined giggles bouncing off the vaulted ceilings. You finally stop at the closed double doors, the chatter of guests and the faint strains of music just on the other side. A deep breath rushes through you as you stare at the oak, your heartrate increasing.

“I still don’t understand. I’m just a painter,” you whisper but the words echo off the quiet hallways onto Lana’s ears. She finishes laying out your skirt before moving to stand next to you, gently taking a hold of your hand and squeezing.

“And yet, here you are in a beautiful gown about to enter a ball at the express invitation of the palace,” she says, her own voice dreamy. “Enjoy it.”

There is no hesitance as you turn to Lana, throwing your arms around her and pulling her into a hug. A whispered thank you is the last words you exchange before she is disappearing back down the hallways and out of sight. You take one last deep breath, steeling yourself before you knock gently on the door.

With an ease and elegance that has you momentarily faltering, the door swings open. You slowly walk over the threshold, your eyes dancing over the crowd. A few curious eyes are directed your way, drawn by the movement, but you simply breathe, walking down the first flight of steps to the landing of the grand staircase. Standing there is Dmitry, the royal caller and you catch his eye. He smiles at you before clearing his throat, his resounding voice pulling the remaining guest’s attention as he announces your presence.

You look towards the King and Queen, sitting on the raised dais and extend them a deep curtsy before rising, meeting Queen Elena smile with your own before turning your attention to the crowd. Your eyes scan over the sea of faces until they meet the dark brown irises that you were searching for.

Andrei is standing there, in his royal blue regalia, looking as handsome as you had imagined him. And he is looking at you like you hung the very stars in the sky.

The heat rises in your cheeks under his heavy stare, your head ducking down as you descend the remaining stairs. You weave through the crowd, feeling the eyes on you and hearing the hushed whispers of other guests. But you find that the attention slips off you, like water off a duck’s wing. Your mind is only on Andrei. It seems as if his mind is on you as well because in what feels like mere moments, he is there standing in front of you.

“Your Radiance,” you say, curtsying to him.

“My lady,” he replies, returning your curtsy with a bow. There is a brief moment of silence between the two of you, where you just look at each other. “I see you got my invitation,” he whispers softly for only you to hear.

“It wasn’t your most subtle work,” you tease, a small smile playing on your lips. It is a smile that Andrei returns before clearing his throat, his posture straightening as he speaks.

“Come. There is someone I want you to meet.”

He extends his arm to you, an invitation that you gladly take before he is guiding you across the marble floor. You try to remain confident even though the stares have increased due to your presence on the prince’s arm. Andrei seems unaffected, pushing through the crowd with an ease that was proffered to him as the Crown Prince. He doesn’t halt your journey until he has stopped in front of another gentleman wearing the greys and greens of the Carolyna naval uniform.

“This is Prince Evgeny Svechnikov. My brother,” Andrei says, before offering your name and title to Evgeny.

“An honor to meet you, Your Radiance,” you say, extending Evgeny another deep curtsy. He takes your hand, placing a small kiss on your knuckles before meeting your eye with a small grin.

“It’s just Your Honor now,” Evgeny explains, his teasing grin jumping back to Andrei. “I’m not a prince, simply a lieutenant in the Royal Navy. Drei knows this but likes to pretend I didn’t abdicate.”

“You’re still a Prince of Carolyna, whether or not you have the official title,” Andrei quips back, jostling his brother on the shoulder.

“Regardless, it is still a pleasure to meet you,” you say, your voice still formal. “I hope your time at sea wasn’t too difficult.”

“A lot of fresh air and plenty of time to think. Easier being in the Navy when your country is at peace,” he replies. “So, you are the royal portrait artist that Andrei has filled pages of letters with.”

“I suppose so,” you stutter, looking back at Andrei with a raised eyebrow. The flush on his cheeks surprises you at first but soon his embarrassment relaxes you, the urge to tease him goading you on. “Pages, you say?”

“Oh yes. Every time the ship made port, there was a letter waiting for me filled with praise about the new painter that was teaching my brother to get in touch with his creative side. I must admire your tenacity, seeing as the Drei I know gets frustrated when he doesn’t perfect a skill in the first attempt.”

Evgeny’s lighthearted quips makes you relax, the smile on your lips growing wider.

“He’s been doing better. Has only broken three brushes in frustration this past week.”

The laughter that falls from Evgeny’s lips is similar to Andrei’s yet unique in its own right, filling the air as he claps his brother on the back of the shoulder. Your own giggle follows as you see Andrei’s blush deepen, his head shaking.

“Why must you turn everything into a joke at my expense, Geno?” he asks, the loving tone betraying the anger the words could portray.

“Because it’s so easy to get you riled, little brother,” Evgeny replies, playfully wresting Andrei under his arm, mussing his slicked back hair. Andrei manages to wriggle his way free, his hands smoothing his uniform and pushing back his hair before politely nodding to the few guests who took an interest in the brief commotion. It is only when their eyes turn away does Andrei jab his elbow into his brother’s side as a small payback.

There is an indescribable feeling in your chest as you watch Andrei interact with his brother. It was abundantly clear how much he loved Evgeny. His smile seemed brighter, his laughter came easier, and it felt as if he was more settled into his own body.

The conversation between the three of your flows, various topics flitting in and out like the moths in the garden. A glass of champagne had been placed in your hand and was refilled more times than you cared to admit. It felt like hours of talking before Andrei was summoned away to perform his other princely duties, mingling and brushing elbows with other dignitaries. His departure leaves you and Geno alone on the side of the ballroom. Your body turns to face the crowd, eyes taking in the couples dancing, the beautiful music lifting over the noise of the crowd. You take a sip of your champagne, a pleasant buzz running through your body.

“So,” Evgeny speaks, breaking the silence. “How long have you and Drei been in love?”

The unexpected question has you choking on the sparkling liquid, your glass quickly pulled away from your lips as you compose yourself. Once you’ve gotten a hold of your bearings, you look towards Evgeny who is smirking down at you, his own champagne flute pressed to his lips, an eyebrow quirked as if waiting for an answer.

Your eyes quickly dart around the ballroom, making sure that there was no prying attention on the conversation you shared with the eldest prince. In a room full of eyes and ears, keeping the secret of your and Andrei’s relationship was paramount. Once you were satisfied, you shoot a quick glance back to Evgeny before keeping your attention forward to not arouse suspicions.

“Did Andrei tell you?” you ask, the prior mention of you being the starring subject in Andrei’s numerous letters filling your mind.

“No, he never said a word,” Evgeny replies. “But I know my brother. The way he looks at you… it’s more than just simple admiration for the painter who is giving him lessons.”

You could blame the alcohol for the warmth that radiates from your chest down to your toes. But if you did, it would be a lie. It is Evgeny’s words, his quiet assurance that Andrei is telling the truth when he says that he loves you. That confirmation coming from someone who knows Andrei best and could figure out your shared secret within only a few minutes of meeting you sets off a blaze in your heart. You breathe deeply, reigning in your emotions as you look out across the ballroom. Your eyes easily find Andrei, his blue uniform stark against a sea of red, white, and black gowns and suits. He is conversing with what appears to be other generals, his stature strong and regal.

“May I ask you a question, Prince Evgeny,” you inquire, turning your attention back to his brother.

“Please, you can call me Geno,” he replies, that easy smile on his face. “And yes, of course.”

“Why did you abdicate? You’re the eldest son of the King so the Crown was yours by right. Why give it up?”

“To be honest, I was never very good at it. Bureaucracy,” Evgeny laughs. “Plus, it never appealed to me: sitting in rooms filled with papers, giving commands to people I never met, having every self-interested bastard whispering their ideas in my ear and having to sift through the shit to find what best served the country. I much prefer the Navy where I know and trust the men by my side, where I can feel the work I’m doing, knowing for certain that my actions are helping the country I love.”

You let his words sink in, your eyes trailing back to Andrei. The way Evgeny describes the role of King weighs on you, the pressure of such a demanding job feeding your concern for the man you loved.

“I wouldn’t worry about Drei though,” Evgeny continues as if he can sense your apprehension. “He’s everything I’m not: driven but not demanding, loyal but not blindly so, commanding while still remaining respectful. That’s a rare combination of qualities to have. Plus, he’s devoted to the people of Carolyna. I know that he will always have their best interests at heart.”

Your heart swells again at the description Evgeny gives to his brother, the pride in his voice clear. Your eyes stayed locked onto Andrei, watching as he concludes his conversation before turning his own gaze around the room. It seems instantaneous, the way they lock onto yours and your heart pounds as he starts to make his way back to you.

“Andrei loves the people,” Evgeny’s voice sounds again. There is a brief pause, your eyes still locked onto Andrei’s. You slightly jump when you feel Evgeny’s warm breath next to your ear, his words hushed and he whispers to you. “He loves you. And if there is one thing I know for certain about my brother, it is that he fights for those he loves.”

Your head turns quickly, looking back towards Evgeny, that now familiar grin on his face. He takes your hand, bowing as he places a polite kiss on your knuckles. An instant later, he is gone, vanishing into the crowd around you. You turn your head back, only to come face to face with Andrei. He shoots you that crooked grin before glancing around, no doubt looking for his brother.

“What was Geno whispering to you about?” he asks. “Talking about me again?”

“Only good things, I promise,” you reply, keeping your voice light and teasing as to not betray the emotions brought on by Evgeny’s hushed declaration.

“Lucky I trust you,” Andrei says, his smile never leaving his lips.

You simply return the smile, your head ducking down in shyness under the weight of his gaze. Around you, you can hear the music slowing, reaching its soft crescendo before the guests applaud. Your eyes glance up again, connecting to Andrei’s gaze once more. He has an indecipherable look on his face, as if he was having an internal debate with himself.

The feeling of his hand on yours startles you, but you allow him to gently remove the glass from your grip, placing it on the tray of one of the passing servers before returning his attention to you. Andrei extends his hand, his palm upwards.

“Dance with me.”

The words are a gentle demand, tinged with hope. You want to keep staring in his eyes but the weight of others looks tugs at your focus, your own eyes darting around the room filled with high-ranking individuals and many an eligible maiden.

“I don’t think we should,” you whisper, your gaze turning back to him.

You wish you didn’t notice the hurt flicker across Andrei’s face at your response. His hand curls in on itself before disappearing behind his back, a sigh lifting his shoulders. Andrei gives you a polite bow – a silent agreement – and you can tell that he is about to turn away.

“But perhaps,” you speak again, stopping him in his tracks and pulling his gaze back to you. “Perhaps I was lost. Confused. Maybe had a few too many drinks.”

Andrei’s laugh rumbles through his chest at your words, a laugh that you share before looking up at him, your eyes wide and earnest.

“And perhaps you were a gentleman and saved me before I made a fool of myself. Made sure I was alright.”

The smile that Andrei gives you is intoxicating, his eyes shining with the same desire that was surely reflected in yours. His hand extends again and this time, your reaches out towards him. There is still a brief hesitancy, made clear by the pause and slight curl of your fingers. But is a miniscule moment, one that passes when you find that last sliver of courage and slip your hand into his. Andrei’s fingers close around yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as a silent comfort before he leads you out onto the dance floor.

The candlelight reflects off the embroidery on your gown as Andrei pulls you to the center of the marble floor, spinning you to face him, the velvet hem brushing against the stone. He reaches out, placing his free hand on the small of your back and you follow his lead, your own hand landing delicately on his bicep, feeling the strength of the muscle underneath the fabric. A gasp escapes you as he pulls you closer to him, your bodies almost touching. You can’t stop the way your eyes bounce around the ballroom, the stares of the other guests now impossible to ignore.

“Everyone is looking at us,” you whisper, feeling the heat race up the back of your neck, your heart fluttering in your chest like a newly captured bird.

“Just keep your eyes on me,” Andrei murmurs.

You are helpless to follow his directions, your gaze jumping up to lock with his. The instant they connect, your heartbeat stills. Andrei is staring at you with pure devotion and admiration. It was as if you were the finest painting in any gallery, like you were the most beautiful sculpture in the world.

In his eyes, you were no longer the artist. You were beauty animated. You were art itself.

“Just me,” he says again.

You swallow back the tidal wave of emotions that threaten to spill over, blinking before giving Andrei a subtle nod of your head and offering him a timid smile.

Andrei’s chest lifts in a deep breath, an action you copy before relaxing into his hold. You can hear the music begin and it is another moment before Andrei starts to move. It is slow, measured, and you just keep your gaze aligned with Andrei’s as he leads you around the dance floor, falling into the ebb and flow of the melody bouncing off the candelabras above you.

The two of you continue to dance, your dress flowing around you as Andrei keeps you secure in his hold. The curious and somewhat judgmental stares that you were previously acutely aware of fade away the longer you are in Andrei’s grasp. Soon, it feels as if the two of you are alone in the ballroom.

“I love you,” Andrei whispers. The declaration cuts through you, piercing you deep. “I know that we aren’t supposed to be together; by law or rule or general propriety. But I don’t care. I will not give up on you. On us.” He sighs, his eyes softening with melancholy. “That is, not unless you tell me to.”

“Never,” you say, your grip tightening on him as you step closer, close enough to feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. He smiles, your own fierce promise fueling his words.

“You are the love of my life,” he vows. “And I know that if I ever had to live without you – if our connection was severed by distance or by time, my heart would shatter, never to be mended again.”

Andrei’s words have captured you, enveloping you in his pure love and devotion. You are acutely aware of the warmth of his hand in yours, the feeling of his hand slowly rising from the small of your back. His fingertips gently brush against the bare skin between your shoulder blades, pushing a gasp from you at the sparks that his touch brings.

“At least, not until you returned to me,” Andrei murmurs, those dark brown irises staring into your very soul, reading you plain and leaving you bare. “That is what our love is: eternal.”

“Timeless,” you reply, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, one which Andrei returns.

“Yes. Timeless.”

His fingers dance over your exposed skin once more before his hands fall away from you. The departure of his touch throws you back to the present moment, the cacophony of applause from the guests hitting your eardrums. Andrei bows to you, your hand still in his. You follow suit, bending in a deep curtsy before lifting yourself slowly, looking back to him.

You find that his gaze is already glued to your frame and you watch with breathless anticipation as he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss onto your hand. Directly over the spot where the makeshift ring he gifted to you all those months ago sat.

A subtle indication of the promise that he made to you, one that he intended to keep. The promise of a love that was enduring, constant, unending.

A love that would last forever.

taglist (join here!): @tkachvkmatthew @m00nlightdelights @cixrosie

#nicole writes #king of my heart series #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov alternate universe #andrei svechnikov fluff #carolina hurricanes fic #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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couldawouldashoulda50 · 1 month

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I just happened to see the last 8 minutes of the CAR vs NYR game - amazing to see the Canes win this one. Just thought I would tag a few fans that I'm aware of

@misshoneyimhome @callsign-denmark @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov

#carolina hurricanes #brady skjei #freddie andersen #andrei svechnikov #jaccob slavin #brent burns #canes lb #canes hockey

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comphy-and-cozy · 2 months

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oh I have another idea for you!

how do you think jt uses his playoffs/cup winning experience to help guide the younger players on the team (specifically your son lucas)?

tiff this is truly, truly wicked of you to ask me this and I will try my very best not to go off the fucking rails with this but...

he doesn't wear an 'A'—not officially, anyway, but that doesn't mean he isn't a strong leader in the room. he's not afraid to chime in, his voice ringing out amongst the other veterans like dylan, david, and ben, especially because he has more playoff experience than a majority of the guys on the team; he shares a lot about the team's mentality, the poise they carried in denver, how he manages his body during the (hopefully) extra long season/shortened off season come playoff time.

but, more importantly, he definitely is more of a quiet leader, often taking more of an intimate approach: offering quick tips after a play, private words of encouragement before an important game, sharing strategies he's employed to deke a defender like banking the puck off the boards, even sometimes staying late after practice to talk through a play or help with a shot. have you noticed how lucas is significantly more confident shooting the puck this year

something that I go insane about with @acheronist often is from this video from training camp—and the idea that after this silly exchange, jt offers lucas the advice that he should try playing with unfamiliar sticks, just for those strange times during a game when he's got to play with someone else's. (this was the exact moment that jt imprinted on him btw. in september. on like the 3rd day of knowing him.)

requests temporarily open for compher content 🫶🏼

#asks #jt's bday celebration #smileysvech #a dream come true #jt compher #hockey #detroit red wings

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 1 year

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hi angel! I looooooove how you write andrei so I would love to hear your take on what he’d be like on a mini golf date 🥹

I know he doesn’t really care much for actual golfing but I think it’d be fun watching this giant russian man play some putt putt lmaooo

omg thank youuu 🥹 i’m obsessed with and LOVE your tags on my fics 🫶🏻 hope you enjoy this!

okay, drei and mini golf - here we go. popping this one under a read more for a few nsfw lines and the unintenitonal double entendres that happen when talking about golf😅

i love that he thinks golf is stupid because i also think golf is stupid

you convince him to try mini golf because there are some fun little courses near you and you always remember having a good time playing with your friends growing up

it immediately starts wrong because the longest putter is still too short for him and he has to hunch over awkwardly to shoot (“i’m going to throw out my back like this” “and yet you have no problem bending me over and throwing out my back…”)

he picks a red golf ball of course and you go with neon pink

to spice up the game, you make a bet - one hole in one on the course equals a sexual favor. he gets a hole in one on the first, easiest hole and smirks, holding up his index finger, “one blow job.”

you get a hole in one on the third hole and smirk back at him, holding up your index finger, “one face sitting, tongue-induced orgasm.”

he’s surprisingly not that bad at the early holes, when they’re easy, and gets cocky, obnoxiously counting how many strokes it takes for you to get the ball in the hole (“that’s five. you know, i think the toddler in front of us is doing better than you” “still better than the six or seven strokes it takes to get you off”)

he teases you, coming around your back to put his hands over yours and “help” your swing. but really it’s just an excuse to press his groin against your ass, the hard ridge of his erection evident behind the fly of his jeans

you wiggle your ass against his front deliberately, playacting innocence when he murmurs a harsh “cock tease,” in your ear and nips at the side of your neck (the groan he lets out when you grind harder against him draws a few dirty looks from the parents around you)

then you start getting to the more challenging holes (the windmills and the waterfalls and the random hills and dips and a godforsaken clown head that’s going to give you nightmares) and it all goes downhill

andrei shoots the ball right into the little pool at the base of the waterfall and, per the rules, either has to fish it out or forfeit his chance at a free round at the end, so, competitive and stubborn as hell, he drops to his stomach on the green next to the pool and sticks his arm into the murky water, swishing around with a disgusted look on his face “this is disgusting. i don’t know why you’re laughing, you’ll get whatever disease i’m picking up from this water when i finger fuck you later.”

you crack up laughing the whole time, taking video of the indignity. it’s hilarious until your next shot ricochets off of one of the windmill blades and glances across your cheekbone. “fuck ow shit this stupid thing is going to break my face!”

andrei immediately checks to see if you’re okay and when he’s satisfied that you’re only going to have a little bruise, starts laughing at you. his shirtsleeve is still dripping wet and his face is red from laughing so hard. “we’re so bad at this, solnyshka.” “this is more fun when you’re just a kid. can we leave and go do something else?”

so you skip the last seven holes and go to a nearby laser tag place which is much more fun. especially when andrei pulls you into a dark corner and makes out with you like you’re teenagers

#andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov headcanons #andrei svechnikov x reader #smileysvech #asked and answered

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pyotrkochetkov · 4 months

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your trademark: the most creative and killer gifs, edits, and playlists for the sexiest march 26th birthday boys

bonus one on a more personal note: iced coffee on an empty stomach

🤧🩷

LMAO STOP, then i wonder why i always feel like

what’s my trademark?

#smileysvech #ask

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lovelyteuvo · 7 months

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aesthetic tag game ✨ on pinterest, search your name + core and pick the first 6 pictures

thanks for the tag @smileysvech 🩷🌟

no pressure tags: @jamiesdrysdale @newromanticslut @lvrzegras @marsinout @blankenlove and honestly anyone who wants to participate 🫶🏻

#tag games

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fallinallincurls · 8 months

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bre's tumblraversary celebration!!

can you believe i've been on this site for four years now?? thank you to each and every one of your for your support, friendships and the amazing memories!

to celebrate the milestone, i decided to host a little celebration/sleepover!! this will run from today (11/05) to friday, november 17th! here are all the ways you can participate!

🫶🏼 request a blurb! you can pick a prompt from any of the three lists below, just please include the prompt number and list in the request along with the player you want.

prompt list 1 prompt list 2 prompt list 3

🎶 request a playlist for a particular player!

🎨 request a moodboard/lockscreen!

😚 send in a concept/idea you’d like to talk about!

💛 send in a compliment for a mutual!

as always, i take requests for the list of players below (in no particular order)

nathan mackinnon

mat barzal

cale makar

quinn hughes

anthony beauvillier

sidney crosby

erik johnson

tyson jost

leon draisaitl

mitch marner

can't wait to celebrate with everyone!! here's to another amazing year on here!

tagging some friends/mutuals who might be interested!

@tonyspep @laurenairay @smileysvech @kailyn-writes @ghostyjosty @comphy-and-cozy @miracleonice87 @wyattjohnston @senditcolton @barzysunflower @hockeylvr59 @ilyasorokinn @desiredposion @bitchinbarzal @comphyjost @starshine-hockey-girl

#bre's 4 year tumblraversary!!#sleepover #celebration #blurb requests!#send some asks in!#nathan mackinnon #mat barzal #cale makar #quinn hughes #anthony beauvillier #sidney crosby #erik johnson #tyson jost #leon draisaitl #mitch marner #nhl fic #nhl imagines

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idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 · 1 year

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Raw

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & KO / @thirteenisles

Tagging: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @hoesforthecanes @hockeywritingcollection

Relationship: Andrei x Kat

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

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

Word Count: 5.8k

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

March 2022

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

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

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

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

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

“You need rest,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you more,” she whispered back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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mendeshoney · 10 months

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take me back to eden (part 1/2)

A/N: well I had an idea about andrei and as per usual @pyotrkochetkov @smileysvech bullied supported me until it was finished. as you can see, this story is going to be posted in two parts, so keep your eyes peeled! title is from “take me back to eden” by sleep token

Summary: Andrei’s retired, Assistant GM of the Carolina Hurricanes, and a little lonely, so he decides to be a little like Edward Lewis.

Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader

Part 1 Word Count: 22,144

Warnings: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, basically “pretty woman” with andrei, love at first sight(Ish), he falls first, she falls too, he falls harder, sugar daddy vibes, angst, fluff, smut, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex

September

The Premiere Suite at The Mark Hotel.

So…this was it.

Immediately after swiping the key card and letting himself into the suite, he goes about unpacking. Quickly, he puts his belongings away in the bedroom of the suite, before moving back into the living area, heart pounding with every step.

He’d bought a bouquet of red roses along with a crimson red vase, and he stores the vase in a cabinet in the little kitchen first. He moves further into the room, setting the roses on the coffee table before grabbing the ice bucket and heading down the hall to fill it. When he gets back, he places a bottle of champagne in the ice bucket, and rests it beside the roses, accompanying it by placing two champagne glasses down next to the bucket.

He heads back into his room, pulling out the little blue box from Tiffany’s in his leather duffle bag, tucking the box into the pockets of his pants, then heads back into the living area, examining the space.

This was enough, right?

Enough to prove that either he wasn’t new to this (which he was) or that he was capable of being a gentleman (jury’s still out), he wasn’t sure.

He’d never done this before, never had to, never needed to, and never thought to.

At thirty two, officially retired from hockey and now serving as Assistant General Manager of the Carolina Hurricanes, Andrei had his fair share of ex girlfriends, previous one night stands, former friends with benefits, and the like in his youth. He’d thought he’d been close to true love once before, but that crashed and burned in flames before he even realized he was standing in the ashes of the aftermath.

Too focused, he’d been told. He was too focused on hockey, on this sport, and it wasn’t enough, so she left. And now, he couldn’t exactly deny that she had been wrong.

Lately, he was far too busy and much less interested in anything other than working to even consider the possibility of anything more. Working for the team that had given him the chance to live out his childhood dreams was where his heart, mind, body, and soul were focused, and he poured his all into it every day.

But sometimes, some days, he could admit to himself that as much as he liked being alone, he did feel lonely in the quiet corners of his office and in the solitude of his bedroom.

“You need a Pretty Woman,” his brother had told him almost a month ago.

“A what?” He remembers saying, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear as he typed out an email.

“You know the movie? With Julia Roberts?” Evgeny said, as if that was supposed to mean something to Andrei. “The one mom used to watch all of the time.”

“The prostitution one?” He said, vaguely recalling it now. He mainly remembers trying to make as much noise as possible with Evgeny so his mother would relent and allow them to change the channel to watch cartoons or hockey.

“Da,” his brother had said, “It could be discreet, maybe a little more your pace.”

Andrei had all but rolled his eyes and shot it down, calling his brother an idiot before confirming that he’d be home for the holidays and hanging up.

Then two days later, he was out to dinner with a few of the players on the roster during a preseason dinner, and overheard a couple of veteran players on the team chatting with a newer player about helping him find a date to their eventual Canes Bash, the renamed organizational casino night.

“It’s worth a shot,” one of the veterans, Mason, had said. “You said you’re out of options, that’s an option.”

The newcomer, Eli, looked extremely skeptical. “But isn’t that like…illegal? It’s basically prostitution.”

The veteran players had shushed him, leaning in closer and lowering their voices even though Andrei could still hear them.

Eli was sitting to his immediate right, for fuck’s sake.

“It’s an escort service.” The other veteran, Olly said from his spot across from Eli. “They’re based out of Manhattan but have employees all over the country. They serve high profiled clients and work with the utmost scrutiny. You have to submit pay stubs to even prove you can afford one of their employees and both parties are required to sign an NDA.”

“Why does it sound like you’ve ripped that right from their website?” The rookie questioned, skepticism still present in his tone.

“Because maybe we’ve used it once or twice,” Mason shrugged.

“You have?” Eli asked, and Andrei could tell he was starting to slowly lean into the idea.

“It’s simple,” Olly assured him. “When you register yourself on the website, you fill out an application and basically create an account with them. You have to sign the NDA before your account can be official. Then you submit your pay stubs and a copy of your ID or passport. If those clear, then they do a thorough background check on you, more thorough than a government job, even, and if you pass the background check, they send you a questionnaire to fill out that helps them understand what you’re looking for, but it also lets them know if they’re the service you’re looking for, or if you should take your interests elsewhere.”

“Yeah,” Mason chimed in. “If they believe they can help you, they ask for your availability where you’d like to meet, and then once you pick a city, day, and time, they set up a meeting place, all expenses paid by the service. It’s like a consultation.”

“What about the girl?” Eli asked. “Do I get to pick her?”

“They select them for you based on your questionnaire answers.” Mason said, “But they’ve never set us up with a bad pick.”

“Yeah,” Olly chimed in, smirking. “Remember the blonde bombshell I brought to the team Christmas party last year?”

Eli’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “She was an escort?!”

Olly and Mason shushed Eli once more, though no one else at the dinner table seemed to have been paying any attention to them.

Hockey players have certainly heard, and discussed, far weirder and far worse.

“Did you just watch ‘Pretty Woman,’?” Andrei had teased, and laughed at the stricken expressions on Mason, Olly, and Eli’s faces.

“Uh yeah,” Mason had said nervously. “It’s a classic.”

Andrei nodded, “It is, it’s a great movie.” Then turned his body as if he was tuning into the conversation the head office was having to his left.

To be fair, he should technically be involved in this conversation anyway, since it is his job, but instead, for some reason, he keeps an ear trained on the rest of what the boys to his right are saying.

“Look, do you wanna go for it or not?” Mason asked, “If you do, I can send you a referral link, or you can just use my name when you apply. It speeds up the time between application and your first meeting.”

Eli made a hesitant noise. “I don’t know. What if I don’t like the girl they picked? I can’t bring a weirdo to the Canes Bash.”

“That’s what the initial meeting is for.” Olly explained. “The consultation, remember? First visit is free, and then the only payments you have to worry about are for bookings once you get to the first date and beyond. If you like the girl, you tell her what you need her for, and if she agrees to work with you, you book everything moving forward through the website. That way you’re not spending money up front.”

“It’s no strings attached before you even solidify anything.” Mason said, then nudged Eli. “So what do you think? Are you in or what?”

There was a pause, and Andrei sensed Eli’s lingering hesitation, but still, the rookie persisted and said, “Yeah, why not? Fuck it. I’ll do it. What’s this thing called again?”

“Daughters of Aphrodite,” Olly said with a dreamy air to his tone. “Unofficially, that is. Aptly named, but it would obviously raise some eyebrows. So officially, their business name is Eden.”

That night, after Andrei went home, he found himself opening up his laptop as he lounged in bed, looking up “Daughters of Aphrodite” online. He’d found nothing but tellings and retellings of the goddess of love, so he took a chance and searched up “Eden” instead.

Sure enough, there it was. He hesitated all of two seconds before clicking into the website, and didn’t think twice about filling out the application. True to Mason and Olly’s word, he had to sign an NDA before his account could be created, and submit a copy of six months worth of paystubs, his identification, fill out paperwork to commit to and then actually go for STD testing, and when they asked if he’d been referred to the service by anyone to expedite his application process, he listed Olly’s name, figuring Mason probably would’ve lent his referral to Eli instead.

And now, three weeks later, here he was.

In Manhattan, at one of the most expensive hotels in the city, moving into a suite for the weekend.

About to have a consultation…with an escort.

If the consultation went well, his plan was to take this person to a nice dinner, and maybe go out for drinks afterward. Eden had footed the bill and booked the suite for the weekend in case they decided on other activities, but Andrei wasn’t going to hold his breath.

He still wasn’t sure if he was going to stick around, let alone if this other person would be interested.

As he looked around at his little set up, part of him felt like maybe this was too much, but he couldn’t just show up here with nothing. They had his pay stubs, knew his income, knew he was a high profile client using their services for a reason.

Sugar daddy.

That was one of the things on his questionnaire, asking if that’s what he was looking to be.

He hadn’t said yes, but surely it wouldn’t be inappropriate to provide his incoming date with…well, some sugar.

Besides, it was just roses, champagne, and the diamond tennis bracelet from Tiffany’s sitting in his pocket.

Before he could start pacing, Andrei removed his tie and his blazer, resting it over the back of the chair at the desk in the room before loosening the top few buttons on his dress shirt, then unbuttoning and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. He raided the mini bar, pouring himself a shot of vodka, downing it, then pouring another larger serving, one he could sip at to calm his nerves.

He sat in the lounge chair, scrolling through his email to re-read the instructions one more time.

“...after checking into your hotel and arriving at your room, feel free to take your time settling in and getting comfortable. Once you’re ready, please text the code “5683” to the following number, and we will notify your date for the evening that you’re ready for them. They should arrive no later than twenty minutes after you send the directed code.”

Andrei felt a sweat start to break out on his back.

He texted the code not long after he finished unpacking, which was about ten minutes ago.

She could get here at any time, and it wasn’t until Andrei realized that, that he began to panic a little.

He had no idea what this woman would look like, no idea how old she was. He said he wouldn’t agree to anything more than a couple years older than him, and nothing more than ten years younger than him, so he knew she was somewhere in that range.

But what if she wasn’t his type? What if he wasn’t her type? Even if he was a client, Eden made it clear that the girls were in control, that they had the agency, so what if she decided to break it off the second she saw his face? What if there was no chemistry? What if -

A soft pattern of three knocks on the door broke him from his thoughts, and he cursed to himself.

She’s here.

Resting his glass on the side table near his chair, he gets up, strolling to the door and checking his appearance in the mirror before answering.

Not his best, but not his worst.

It’s a consult. He reminds himself. Doesn’t have to be anything more.

He takes a deep breath, flipping the deadbolt and twisting the handle, breath caught in his lungs as he opens the door and -

And…

Fuck.

Oh fuck.

This…this is…

It has to be a joke.

There’s no way a woman this beautiful, a woman this perfect, is working for a service like this.

Now he understood why Olly got so dreamy when he said the service was called “Daughters of Aphrodite.”

Because if this woman were anything other than a demi-god, daughter to the most beautiful creature in the world, he would surely think he was living in an alternate reality.

Fuck, the woman in front of him could be Aphrodite for all he cared.

God damn, ona krasivaya. She is beautiful.

She should be on a throne somewhere, modeling on a beach, walking a runway, hell, in a house baking cookies for her husband and children because…because…

This woman should be someone’s wife. Someone’s girlfriend. Someone’s partner.

Not an escort here in a ritzy hotel suite with him.

“Um…hi. Andrei, right?”

He blinks.

God and her voice.

Your voice.

You.

Your…everything.

No, it’s you’re, definitely you’re, because you are everything.

“Shit,” Andrei hears you curse under your breath. “Um, ty Andrei Svechnikov? Vy govorite po-angliyski?”

He blinks again, like an idiot, because wow he was not expecting that, and now he’s harder than a rock in his dress pants. Granted, your pronunciation isn’t the best, but it’s damn near perfect, and he crumbles.

“Yeah,” he hears himself say, mentally patting himself on the back for not letting his voice crack, “It’s me. I’m Andrei.”

You smile softly at him and he feels like his heart just jumps right out of his chest and lands at your feet, screaming “take me love me accept me please.”

“Hi,” you say. “It’s nice to meet you. Is now still a good time?”

He nods, too dumbstruck to say anything else. His whole body buzzes in response the more you speak to him, and he swears any second now a flying baby in a diaper is going to swoop in and stab him in the butt.

“Yeah,” he says after a second. “Now is still good.”

“Oh okay,” you say, nodding slightly. Then, when he doesn’t move, a soft laugh leaves your lips, a laugh that he swears sounds like little bells, and you tilt your head to the side. “May I come in?”

Idiot.

He laughs too, hoping it doesn’t sound too nervous, and nods, stepping to the side. “Yes yes, I’m sorry, please come in.”

You cross the threshold, passing by him and he gets a whiff of your perfume, the breeze left in your wake chilling him to the bone.

“Almaznyy,” he hears himself whisper, watching you wander further into the suite.

Diamond.

A living and breathing diamond.

He swears a string of curses to himself as he shuts the door behind him and flips the deadbolt, then thinks better of it and flips it back. No one else but him has the key to this room, and he doesn’t want you to think by flipping the deadbolt that you’re trapped here.

Although, he wouldn’t mind if you trapped him in here.

He follows after you, finds you staring at a photograph blown onto canvas on the wall just shy of the coffee table.

The coffee table currently holding your roses.

Shit.

He rushes to the table, grabbing the bouquet and turning towards you. He catches the way your eyes roam over the canvas, over the flowers and shadows, and he smiles a little.

“Interested in art?”

You shrug absently with a hum, your eyes still locked on the photograph, a fond and knowing look on your face. “Somewhat. My mom used to paint, and my brother got me into art as well.” Your body turns toward him first, followed by your head as you say “I’m not quite as good, but I dr- oh.”

You pause, smiling widely at the roses in his hand, and Andrei takes a chance, stepping closer and eliminating some of the distance between you two. “These are for you,” he says, “As a thank you.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say with an awestruck smile, taking them and cradling the bouquet in your arms. “Thank you.”

This image of you would be seared into his brain for the rest of his life, he swears.

“I have a vase for you to put them in, if you’d like.” He offers.

“How considerate,” you say. It sounds teasing, but the smile on your face is sincere. He holds out his hand, nearly regretting it when you blink at it for a second, before your hand lands in his and -

The electric bolt that runs up his arm when he finally touches you can’t be a coincidence.

Especially not when he looks at you, wondering if you felt it too, and judging by the shy look that suddenly crosses your features, you definitely did.

Not only that, but fucking hell your skin is soft.

So soft, better than silk or velvet.

He has to contain his excitement when he laces your fingers together, and you give him a reassuring squeeze as he leads you to the kitchen. He pulls the vase out of the cabinet and starts to fill it with a little water at the sink while you lay the roses down, gently removing the twine and then the brown packaging from around it.

Andrei finds himself quickly reaching for your hands after putting the vase down on the counter, not wanting you to prick yourself on any thorns.

“Let me please, almaznyy,” he says. You smile, eyebrow raised in confusion at what he’s called you - and god if he was going to survive this night he’d have to work to not make you do that as often - but you don’t move at all when he comes up behind you, keeping an inch between your bodies, arms on either side as he works the roses apart, inspecting the stems for thorns.

He didn’t pay anything astronomical for them, but they were a rare type of crimson red rose, and he paid enough to hope that they didn’t have thorns on them.

Thankfully, they didn’t. When he raises his hand to lift a couple into the vase, yours move to grab a couple of more. Together, the both of you arrange the two dozen roses into the vase, and almost naturally, you let out a happy little sigh as you relax backward, body gently pressing against his.

It’s a ghost of a touch, but he can tell you fit perfectly against one another.

“They really are beautiful,” you say, then turn your head to look up at him, lips curving into another brilliant smile. “Spasibo.”

His heart spasms.

That was five.

Five smiles in the span of about five minutes.

He was prouder of that than he was any record he set during his career.

With a smile of his own, he takes a step back, watching you turn and lean against the counter a little, and holds out his hand once more. This time you take it without a second thought, and follow him as he leads you over to the couch.

You both sit next to one another, you sitting a little sideways to face him, and he gestures to the champagne. “Would you like some?”

“Sure,” you say, and now all Andrei wants to do - on top of making you smile - is keep you talking.

He needs to hear more of that pretty voice like it’s the last he’ll ever hear on this earth.

As he expertly pops the top and begins to pour a glass, he asks “How old are you?”

It’s a jump from the first question - or questions - he wanted to ask, the main one being “What is your name?” which he was told explicitly in his instructions email that he was not allowed to ask.

The Daughters of Aphrodite could only offer their names to the clients if they decided that they wanted to - or if their clients had earned it - and the clients could not ask under any circumstances. It was part of the point that the women held the agency here.

His other questions fell along the lines of “Are you married?” and “If you’re not married, are you available for a summer wedding next June?” Both of which he also did not ask.

He’d get the answer to all three eventually…he hoped.

“I’m twenty three,” you respond, accepting the flute of champagne from him. “My birthday was a couple of days ago.”

His heart hammers in his chest.

Nine years.

She’s nine years younger than you, his brain screams.

Eden sure cut it close with this one.

“Happy belated birthday,” Andrei says, turning a little in his seat to face you. As he does, the corner of the jewelry box in his pocket pokes his thigh. He reaches into it without a second thought, relieved when he brings it out and sees that the little white bow is still in excellent condition as he holds it out to you.

“I didn’t know it was your birthday, obviously,” he begins, “But I saw this and wanted to buy it for you, so maybe it was meant to be.”

He winces internally at his choice of words, but then a bashful smile breaks out on your face, and you place your champagne flute down on the coffee table, taking the gift with gentle fingers.

Six smiles!

Hell yes.

You pause before pulling the bow, looking up at Andrei with a little furrow in your brow.

His heart kicks in his chest, demanding to be let out, demanding to comfort you and ease whatever just made you pull that face. “What is it?”

“This is just awfully nice of you, and I didn’t get you anything.”

Two things run through his mind in that second and he’s blurting them both out before he can stop himself or think of any consequences. “I wanted to, you deserve it. And I don’t need anything in return.” then “Your other clients don’t get you anything?”

You fucking idiot. He curses himself. He didn’t even think of the fact that you’ve probably had other clients, that you’ve been around other men, and his blood starts to simmer, this unexpected feeling of jealousy twisting his stomach uncomfortably.

But you don’t even blink, just shrug your pretty shoulders and say “Not really, no. Well, not at first maybe, not at the consultation.”

Okay.

He was not going to think about the fact that other men had gotten to have a consultation with you or that some had also made it past the consultation with you. He was not going to picture a beautiful being like you entertaining the likes of fuckers like Mason, or Olly, or Eli.

God.

What if you’d been with them? What if you knew Mason or Olly? What if Eli had already applied and maybe even gotten a consultation before Andrei could have? What if you had a consultation scheduled with Eli next? What if -

“And they usually don’t get me roses,” you add softly, fingers still brushing against the bow.

“Then they’re idiots.” He deadpans.

You lift your head up at that, blinking at him, and he worries he may have upset you, but then you laugh, a little loud, melodic and sudden, and his heart soars.

“Open it,” he says gently, gesturing to the box with his chin.

Your fingers finally pull the bow off and gently lift the lid, removing the carefully folded tissue paper to reveal the tennis bracelet nestled inside.

It’s a platinum bracelet, designed to resemble vines curling around the wrist when fastened. Within the leaves on the vine are round brilliant and marquise diamonds, though he doesn’t think they can hold a candle to you.

His actual diamond.

Almaznyy.

Almost as if the marquise diamonds can hear him, they twinkle a little in the light in protest at him when you manage to lift the bracelet from its little cushion.

He thought it was fitting - vines, Eden, garden of Eden.

Oh god, now he thought it was stupid.

Why would he think getting you a bracelet reminding you of your employment was a good idea?

“Oh, Andrei,” you coo.

And god if he doesn’t fall in love with you right then just based on the way you say his fucking name.

“Do you like it?” He asks.

You nod emphatically, looking up at him. You look a little dazed, the disbelief present in your eyes. “I love it, it’s beautiful. Would you help me put it on?”

“Of course, almaznyy,” he murmurs, reaching forward to take the jewelry from your hand. You hold your wrist out, and with nimble fingers he secures the bracelet to your wrist. He indulges himself a little by letting his fingers graze along the skin, before grabbing your hand again, lacing your fingers together and resting them on the couch cushion between you.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he says truthfully, eyeing the way the bracelet sits on your wrist, how it looks so perfect next to his rolex, and how they punctuate your joined hands.

“It fits like a glove.” You say, voice full of wonder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it in my life.”

The boost to his ego is instantaneous and he can’t help the smirk that crosses his lips before he smothers it with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.”

You smile, seven, eyes looking him over for a second. “Is that what you need me for? Someone to shower with roses and pretty jewelry?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and Andrei feels himself go red.

For a second he managed to forget about the circumstances surrounding your presence. For a second, he managed to convince himself this was your third date. For a second, he managed to convince himself you already belonged to him.

Not in a nefarious way. People never belonged to other people, he always believed that.

But god dammit if he didn’t already belong to you.

“I um,” he fumbles, doesn’t really know what to say.

You scoot closer, unlacing your fingers and resting your hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. “It’s okay, Andrei. I’m here for a reason, aren’t I? I just want to help.”

Well fuck.

Now he doesn’t want to tell you. How can he possibly tell you he overheard players on a team he’s supposed to be helping to manage talk about your company? And how could he say that he figured it would be a good quick fix to ease the loneliness he felt some days?

Especially on the days when he realized most of his friends and former teammates were either getting married, already married, some with kids, and he still felt like he was lost in the ocean, treading water for some unknown reason, and that as much as he wanted that all for himself, he just didn’t have the time?

“If it helps,” you offer, “I can kind of guess.”

Andrei blinks. “You can?”

You nod, suddenly growing a little shy as you admit “I kind of Googled you?”

He laughs then, the small tension that had built in the room starting to break. “Oh? Find anything interesting?”

You smirk, dragging your hand down his arm and lacing your fingers back together. “I did. Admittedly I don’t do it with all of my clients, but your name sounded familiar, so I looked you up.”

“And?” He teases, leaning in a little. “Do I live up to Google’s expectations?”

You snort a little - so fucking cute - and a small smile graces your lips again as you try to find the right words to say.

Eight. Fuck yeah.

“You’re a busy man,” you begin, looking down at your joined hands. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. You might not be the general manager, but you’re someone that your organization trusts, and that puts you in a precarious position. Because you can speak to and for the team, and be the middleman between them and your administration in a way that hasn’t been there for them before. The team is your life, you spent your whole career there, so it’s understandable, but that doesn’t leave you much room for anything else. That must be pretty lonely for you.”

Andrei’s dazed, and a little fucking pissed that the most he’s heard you talk this evening is because you’re talking about him, and he makes a mental note with himself to change that as soon as possible.

“You need company.” You finish, rubbing your thumb in comforting circles on the back of his hand, and Andrei feels the anxiety begin to seep out of his body. “I’m happy to give that to you, Andrei. Whatever that may look like.”

His eyes coast up to your face, skepticism in his gut, but your face is completely sincere, not a sliver of doubt or humor. He swallows, nodding. Instead of confirming your suspicions, he turns your hands around, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand now. “And you? What do you need?”

You blink at him. “Me?”

He nods again, “Yeah you, almaznyy. What made you want to do this?”

“Eden?” You clarify, and Andrei nods again, squeezing your hand gently. “Well, as you can probably imagine, it’s good money. It helped put me through college, since I was putting myself through school. I actually stopped once I graduated. I put most of what I earned into savings, and thought that would be enough to live a normal life while I worked a normal job. And I had that for a few months. But then I…” your voice trails off and your brow furrows again, like you’re trying to figure out how much to say.

You can tell me everything. He wants to tell you. I won’t judge, I just want to know.

“I decided I wanted something different,” you finally say. “Something more, so I came back to Eden. They welcomed me back, and now they’re helping me make sure I get what I want.”

“What is it that you want?” He asks.

You shrug. “What does anyone want these days?”

It’s cryptic, and Andrei doesn’t pry any further, no matter how badly he may want to. Instead, he squeezes your hand and asks “Well, what do you need from me?”

You raise a brow, surprised by his question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, how can I help you? To get your something different?”

You smile a little, but it’s not like the others, so he doesn’t add it to the count. This one is more…considering. Like you’re assessing if the sincerity in his voice is actually there, or if he’s just playing his part. “You already are,” you eventually say.

He watches as your eyes continue to examine his face, looking for…well, he doesn’t know exactly. But he’s content to sit there and let you do whatever you want. As far as he’s concerned, you can do whatever you want. And he also uses the opportunity to etch you into his memory, every inch of you, just in case.

“But this is for me,” he says after a moment.

“I know,” you murmur with a smile before casting your eyes down to your joined hands. “And it helps.”

Nine.

He swallows. “Are you lonely too?”

You purse your lips, shrugging. “Isn’t everyone?”

Cryptic again, but then you’re looking up at him, and there’s this…it sounds cliché, but there’s this twinkle in your eye, and he feels his pulse skyrocket in his veins.

“Why the gifts, Andrei?”

He feels his heart sigh dreamily when you say his name. “What?”

You gesture down to the bracelet on your wrist with your eyes, before flicking them back up to his face. “The bracelet, the roses. I love them, don’t get me wrong. But…why?”

Andrei shrugs. “It felt…” he searches for the right words. “Appropriate. I don’t know.”

There’s a look of consideration on your face. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

He shakes his head, suddenly…shy. He’s immediately transported back to his first year as a rookie, how uncertain everything seemed, and how lost he felt more often than not. He remembers stumbling through English, feeling awkward trying to get to know his teammates and make friends, to get people to like him.

He wants you to like him.

He knows in his gut he’s pretty much got a crush on you at this point, which is insane, considering you met…maybe twenty minutes ago? Thirty?

And he doesn’t really know how these things are supposed to go…at all. When he tells you as much, you giggle a little, squeezing his hand. “That’s okay, we can take this slow.”

He nods. “Slow is good.” Then, “How about dinner? Would you like to have dinner with me?”

A dazzling smile crosses your features before you say “I’d love to go to dinner with you,” and he beams.

Ten. Ten smiles and dinner. Hell yeah.

October

Andrei glances down at his phone, smiling at yet another picture of Luka, Evgeny’s newborn baby boy and his second child. He was born a few days ago, but given Andrei’s duties with the team, he couldn’t be there for Evgeny and Sara.

He’d sent presents of course, and his mother had taken the liberty of sending Andrei hundreds of photos so far, and Evgeny clearly felt comfortable following in their mother’s footsteps, sending Andrei at least twenty pictures a day.

Evgeny was just as bad when Mila, his two year old daughter, was born. Photos every day that eventually dwindled down to weekly, then monthly as she got older.

In the photo Evgeny had just sent, Luka’s chubby newborn body was swaddled in a blanket and donning the light yellow baby hat Andrei had sent them.

Andrei: Milyy i tolstyy

Cute and fat.

Evegeny sends back an angry face emoji.

Evgeny: Ne nazyvay moyego rebenka tolstym

Don’t call my baby fat

Evgeny: pridurok

Dickhead.

He chuckles to himself before pocketing his phone, casting his eyes back up.

He watches from the stands as the players skate down the ice, running through drills in preparation for the first home game of the season later this week. Right after that, they were immediately on the road, heading to play the Rangers over the weekend.

A weekend where he’d get to see you.

He grabs his coffee cup from the holder in front of him, taking a large sip as he catalogs every player, assessing for strengths, weaknesses, who needs help, who can work on what. He looks for the holes in their plays, looks for the ways they can improve, looks for anything and everything that the team needs.

“Skyler’s looking good,” Andrei notes. “Role of ‘Captain’ suits him.”

From beside him, sipping on his own coffee, Coach Brind’Amour nods. “Yeah, he’s enjoying it.”

Technically, he’s not Coach Brind’Amour anymore.

These days, he’s the General Manager, but Andrei’s known him too long and respects him too much to call him anything but ‘Coach.’

Skyler, Coach’s son, is about the same age as Andrei, but started with the Canes a few years into Andrei’s career. The two of them became quite close, but whereas Skyler’s career continued, Andrei’s had to stop.

There wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

“What are you seeing?” Coach asks him, gesturing to the ice.

Andrei smiles a little. “Probably the same thing you are.”

“They’re a good team, need a little more work.” Coach confirms.

Andrei hums a little. “They’ll be ready.”

They both eye the banners in the rafters.

2024 Stanley Cup Champions.

2027 Stanley Cup Champions.

2032 Stanley Cup Champions.

The last one makes Andrei feel a little bittersweet, and he tears his eyes away.

“They can do it again,” Andrei confirms. “We made sure the additions to the team would see to that, not prevent it.”

“Now you sound like me,” Coach teases.

Andrei laughs, and shrugs. “You were right most of the time.”

“Most?!” Coach cries, incredulous. He shoves Andrei playfully, and they share another laugh before directing their eyes back to the ice.

They watch the rest of practice relatively quietly, a few other people coming to sit with them now and again as practice goes on, talking to them about upcoming meetings, home opener preparations, player contracts, the list goes on.

Andrei contributes his opinion when he can and when asked, still getting used to his new role. A couple of times, Coach shouts something down the stands so the new head coach or the captain can hear, and even encourages - and manages to convince Andrei - to do it once as well, noting a spot that needs work with a couple of the defensive pairs.

After practice, he and Coach head into the locker rooms to talk to the new head coach and give the players some words of encouragement.

At one point, he notices Olly looking at him from out of the corner of his eye, and when Andrei spares a glance at him, Olly looks away, almost like he didn’t think he’d be caught.

Strange.

On the way out, Andrei tells Coach he’ll catch up in a second before he stops by the player’s stall. “Looking good out there, Oliver.”

Olly looks up, surprised to see him there. From next to him, Mason giggles, bending down to fiddle with the tape on his socks. “Thanks Svechy, I appreciate that.”

“You two feeling good about the home opener?” He asks, gesturing his chin to Mason and leaning against the wall next to the door.

“Yeah man,” Mason answers, eyes on his skates now. “Feeling great. You think we’re ready?”

“Did it last year,” he answers. “Looked great in pre-season. Who says hurricanes can’t strike twice?”

They both grin at that, and then Andrei nods at them, dismissing himself.

When he steps into the hallway, his phone buzzes with an email notification, and his heart nearly skyrockets out of his chest when he sees the subject line.

“Booking Confirmation Details - Eden Hospitality.”

He curses silently to himself, nearly jumping in the air when there’s a tap on his back.

It’s Coach, who laughs at Andrei’s red face, and Andrei quickly locks and pockets his phone.

“Sorry Svechy,” he says, “Didn’t mean to scare you. You coming to the meeting upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Andrei says, sighing a little in relief that it was just Coach Brind’Amour. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Another long, nearly painstaking hour later, Andrei’s finally back in his office.

It’s a cozy space, not as large as the General Manager’s office, or the coach’s office, but it’s decent enough. There’s many photos of his journey with the Canes along his wall, and pictures of his family on the wall closest to his desk. His desk is L-Shaped, and it allows him to face his office door, a couch along the wall, two chairs in front of his desk, and a shelf and mini stall for his gear in the corner.

Checking his schedule on the calendar on his computer, he’s instantly grateful to see he doesn’t have to do anything for another hour and a half, so he pulls out his phone and brings up his email, clicking into the confirmation from Eden.

“Thank you for choosing Eden Hospitality for your booking purposes!

Your reservation beginning this Saturday, October 17th at The Mark Hotel in the Premier Suite is confirmed. Please note that any and all reservation changes must be made within 48 hours of the arranged date. Proof of payment is attached to this email in a reviewable and downloadable PDF.

We also wanted to confirm we received your latest copy of blood testing for STDs, and thank you for your compliance with our booking policies. As a reminder, this will need to be done prior to every booking request to ensure booking can be completed. Failure to comply will result in termination of your account with Eden Hospitality. Attached is also a copy of your companion’s recent blood testing, for your reference.

Check in as per usual at the front desk, and feel free to either leave your bags with the front desk, or you can head on up to your room. Please feel free to text your companion to arrange a time and place to meet, should you wish to meet outside of The Mark Hotel.”

His heart catapults out of his chest when his phone buzzes in his hand with a new text message.

“Almaznyy,” the name reads, and a kilowatt smile crosses his features. He opens your text thread with one another, his smile growing impossibly large as his cheeks heat.

Almaznyy: You miss me that much, don’t you?

Andrei: Almost every second since I said goodbye to you last month

The dinner date had gone incredibly. Wonderfully. Stupendously.

(That last word was one Skyler had taught him.)

The chemistry the two of you shared was…literally off the charts. It felt cosmic, fated, almost, just so naturally right that Andrei drove himself paranoid the more he thought about it, because he wanted to know if you felt it too.

You had spent the night, but nothing intimate had happened other than the two of you holding hands as you laid on Andrei’s bed and talked for hours until you both fell asleep. When Andrei woke up, you were in the kitchen, freshly showered and changed and making breakfast on the stove, a fresh pot of coffee already brewed.

Eden had held your bags at the front desk for you as per consultation protocols, since the Daughters of Aphrodite weren’t required or expected to stay past the initial consultation if they’d made their decision or come to an agreement with their client, but if they chose to stay, their belongings weren’t far away.

The fact that you had chosen to stay made him happier than you’d ever know.

You didn’t unpack like he did, but your things were in a weekender bag in the corner of his bedroom, and though he didn’t want to admit it - mostly because he didn’t want to get ahead of himself - he quite liked seeing your toothbrush next to his on the bathroom counter.

Almaznyy: Well maybe I missed you a little bit as well

Andrei: Really?

Shit shit shit, he didn’t mean to press send on that. He didn’t want to unsend it either, but now that it was out there -

Almaznyy: Yes really, I had a wonderful time with you

You sent a heart emoji with that last message.

A heart.

Alright, now he was just outright blushing, and he folded his arms onto his desk before burying his head in them like a lovesick fool.

In fairness, he’d had a wonderful time too.

After eating the delicious breakfast you’d made, he took your hand across the kitchen island and offered to take you out to do whatever it was that you wanted. It felt appropriate, felt good, knowing he could do that for you.

You took him by surprise when you asked if you could go to the Bronx Zoo. He half expected something a little more…well, he wasn’t sure exactly, but the zoo hadn’t been it.

He complied, of course, and the two of you got dressed. You in jeans, a light sweater, and sneakers, and him in black jeans, a white long sleeved shirt, sneakers, and your new bracelet that you hadn’t taken off since he put it on. You both took an Uber there, and spent most of the morning and early afternoon wandering around, looking at every single animal exhibit, some of them even twice, and taking pictures along the way.

Andrei took more than a few…hundred…pictures of you on his phone. Most of them were candids, some videos of you looking at the different animals, making faces or cooing at them from the viewing windows, and others of you just…being around him.

(He locked about ninety five percent of the photos in a private album on his phone, just in case.)

After that, you took him to your favorite lunch spot on the Upper West Side, and then to your favorite book store in the city.

For dinner, he insisted on cooking for you, so you went to Whole Foods, giggling when he pushed you around on the cart as you grabbed all the necessary items for Beef Stroganoff.

You helped him while he cooked, though he would’ve been much happier if you had just sat on the stool, looking as pretty as you did, sipping your wine and letting him just…cater to you.

You praised him over the dish, in which he immediately texted his mother about afterward to thank her for insisting on teaching him at least that, to which she just replied “???”

That night, the two of you fell asleep talking again, your hands linked with one another under the sheets.

The next day, you played tourist. Checking out the Natural History Museum, the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, got lunch in Tribeca, and then went to the driving ranges at Chelsea Piers. You had dinner together at Prime Catch in Hell’s Kitchen, and spent the rest of the night talking again, until you both fell asleep, this time, with you in his arms.

So yeah…it was pretty wonderful. It didn’t even matter that he didn’t get the chance to kiss you, he just had so much fun being with you, being around you, that he didn’t care about what happened next, or what didn’t happen.

It had been tough to say goodbye to you, especially when you left him with a little wave, a kiss on the cheek, and a “see you soon, Andrei,” but he managed to contain his excitement for the next time.

At least, until this very moment.

He composes himself, sitting back up and grabbing his phone.

Andrei: I had a wonderful time too

Andrei: What do you want to do this time?

He feels like a teenager again, waiting as the seconds pass for your response, and when it comes, he’s pretty sure he wants to squeal with excitement.

He doesn’t even know how to squeal.

Almaznyy: I’ll let you choose, where would you like to take me on a date?

This was definitely a date.

Your fourth date, technically. And you said ‘date,’ so he planned for a ‘date’, but as he waited for you as the seconds ticked by, he was worried it wasn’t enough.

He waited on a bench in front of the Met wearing a dark baseball cap, a gray sweater, bomber jacket, jeans, and sneakers. It was a little chilly out in Manhattan, so he held two of the small, blue signature New York coffee cups in his hands, one with coffee for him, the other with hot chocolate for you.

His knee bounced up and down with nerves, eyes scanning the crowd, looking for any sign of you approaching.

Eventually he sees you emerge, a large scarf wrapped around your neck, covering up your white knit sweater. You’re wearing black jeans and sneakers, your little black bag on your shoulder and in your hand are…

Two blue signature New York coffee cups.

As you get closer, you spot him on the bench, glance at his hands, and then the both of you are laughing by the time you reach him.

“Great minds think alike.” You tease, sitting next to him. “Is that hot chocolate for me?”

He nods, gesturing with his chin at the cups in your hand. “That coffee for me?”

You nod too with a smile, and he shakes his head. “That’s some serious telepathy.”

“I’m pretty sure most people call it chemistry.” You tease, “Here, you drink the coffee I got you, and I’ll drink the hot chocolate you got me.”

You place the excess cups next to you, then exchange the designated cups. He watches as you take a sip of your hot chocolate, smiling when a happy sound crosses your lips.

“How are you, almaznyy?” He asks, reaching a hand out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his hand dropping to his lap unceremoniously.

“Good,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours. “And you, Andrei?”

“Good,” he nods, “A bit busy, but good.”

You nod, taking another sip. “You have a game tomorrow night, right?”

“Mhm,” he manages through a sip of his own coffee. “Have you ever been?”

“To Madison Square Garden? Or to a hockey game?”

He shrugs. “Both.”

“I’ve been to both,” you say honestly. “Couple concerts and I think two games?”

“Would you like to come?” At his question, you turn your head to look at him, surprise lining your features. Andrei just shrugs. “I’d be upstairs working for most of it, but I know a guy, if you want to go. ” He adds with a small smirk.

You hum, tilting your head to the side a little. “If you’d like to have me there, sure.”

“Would you want an extra ticket or two to bring friends?” He offers.

“If you can swing it, and if it’s not too much trouble,” you say. “I think my roommates know someone on the Rangers, so they’d probably like to come.”

“You just let me know how many people, and I’ll take care of it,” he swears, leaning closer as a breeze comes by.

You bury your nose in your scarf, shivering a little, and Andrei frowns. Immediately, he’s putting his coffee down beside him and pulling off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. When the fabric rests on you, you turn to look at him, a warm smile on your face.

“You sure know how to woo a girl, don’t you, hotshot?” You tease, then reach for his hand, squeezing it. “Thank you.”

“Of course, almaznyy.” He says, squeezing your hand in turn, resting your joined hands on the bench between you. You’re both silent as you finish your initial drinks, and now that your other drinks have gone cold, Andrei tosses them both in the trash nearby before standing, tugging on your still joined hands a little to get you to come up with him.

You take him by surprise when you stand, releasing his hand and wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your nose in his chest. His hands are immediately falling on your back, rubbing up and down in a soothing pattern. “What is it?” He murmurs.

“Missed you a little, I guess.” You say honestly, voice slightly muffled by his sweater. “I had a lot of fun last time.”

“So did I,” he admits. “I missed you a lot, too.”

You hum, the noise vibrating against his chest. “What are we doing here?”

Andrei looks up at the Met, then back down at you. “You said your family liked art, and you told me that you liked to draw. I thought…” his voice trails off as he hesitates.

Was this too personal?

“Thought what?” You press, gently rubbing his back.

“Thought you might like to teach me a thing or two. About art.” He eventually says. When you look up at him, there’s an iridescent beam and goofy but excited tilt in your smile, and his heart hammers in his chest.

You gave him that smile a lot last time.

He was more than thrilled to see it again. He didn’t think he should start counting them, not this time, but he definitely would keep this one in his pocket for later.

Gently, he untangles his arms from around you and grabs one of your hands in his, squeezing once. “Ready to go in?”

You nod, still smiling from ear to ear as you trail after him into the museum.

Almaznyy: In the lexus level suite with my friends

Accompanied with the text is a selfie of you smiling from ear to ear in a Hurricanes beanie, his bomber jacket, and a Carolina Hurricanes hockey jersey underneath. You’re holding up the peace sign, the bracelet he gave you twinkling in the light.

Andrei: On my way

He grabs two security guards and an MSG employee, asking if they can escort him down to your suite.

They guide him quickly through back halls and to an elevator, where after a short ride, he arrives at your level and is promptly escorted to your suite, where they fuck off to the other side of the hall so he can have some privacy.

He opens the door to a barrage of giggling that almost immediately ceases when he steps in.

Your eyes lock on one another almost instantaneously and it’s like his world narrows down to just you.

He’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact you said you wanted to be here, that you were excited to be here and share this with him.

Your friends are sharing knowing looks with you from where you’re all standing at the buffet spread, but you ignore them, offering Andrei a soft smile and almost immediately going to embrace him, wrapping him in a tight hug as you murmur a “hi” into his chest.

Andrei laughs, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring his own “hi” into your hair as he wraps his arms around you.

It’s been less than a few hours since he’s seen you last - having left you at The Mark earlier in the day so he could prepare for the game, and you headed into the West Village to join your friends in getting ready for the evening - and he still felt your absence like a gaping wound in his chest.

When you pull away, you take his hand, leading him over to your friends.

“Girls, this is Andrei, my boyfriend. Andrei, these are my friends Tiffany, Katie, Cee, and Maya.”

His whole world screeches to a halt as one word rings in his ears.

Boyfriend.

“H-hi,” he stutters, “Nice to meet you.” He holds a hand out as he greets each of your friends, who greet him in turn.

“Thank you for letting us tag along,” Maya says.

Cee tacks on “We really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he says, brain still playing catch up.

Did he imagine it? Or did you definitely call him your boyfriend?

“It was nice of you to get this suite all for us.” Tiffany adds, eyes darting around the space that’s definitely meant for at least a dozen people.

Katie nods in agreement. “We hope it wasn’t inconvenient.”

Andrei shakes his head. “No, it was my pleasure. Is everything okay so far?”

“Fantastic,” you assure him, then turn to your friends. “Can you guys give us a minute?”

They all nod, sharing knowing looks once again before grabbing their plates and drinks, heading toward the front of the suite and out to the seats, getting ready to watch warm ups.

You turn to Andrei then, a sheepish smile on your face. “I’m sorry that I introduced you as my boyfriend, they just…my friends don’t know that I work at Eden, or what I do. They still think I work at my last job. I thought it would be easier.”

His every instinct says he should frown, or that he should be sad, but he also understands.

And also really, really likes the way you make the word “boyfriend” sound.

Even more so, he likes the way it makes him feel.

But…in reality, he’s not that, no matter how much he would like to be.

Or at least, he’s not that yet.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I get it, it’s alright.”

You scrunch your nose. “Are you sure?”

Andrei shrugs, “I mean I would do the same if I was in your shoes.” If I knew your name, he wants to add, but doesn’t. Would that be okay with you?”

You give him a shy smile and nod a little. “Yeah, that would be okay.”

He feels a little out of place then, but then his eyes coast down to the jersey you’re wearing beneath his bomber jacket. He tugs on the logo at your torso, gesturing with his chin. “Where’d you get this?”

“Made a stop downtown at the NHL store after you left earlier,” you say, offering him a cheshire grin. “Picked it up.”

His eyes narrow playfully. “Who’s jersey is it, almaznyy?”

You shrug, tugging the bomber jacket closer, covering yourself up a little. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see later.”

Andrei makes a move like he’s about to scoop you up, when there’s a knock on the door and one of the security guards he came down with pops his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt, but they’re calling for you in the locker rooms, Mr. Svechnikov.”

“Give me a minute and I’ll be right there.” He promises. The guard steps out, shutting the door, and this time, Andrei does scoop you up, and you laugh gleefully, throwing your arms around his neck as he spins you around.

When he puts you down, he bends his head to tell you to have fun, to text him if you need anything and that he’ll come see you during intermissions if he can.

But then you take him by surprise, dragging your arms from his neck, trailing them down his chest, and gripping his tie in one hand, yanking him down the rest of the way as you rise up on your tippy toes and kiss him.

You’re kissing him.

This is your first kiss.

Yebena mat'. Holy shit.

It takes his brain a second to catch up and for his body to follow suit, but when it does, he’s got his hands on your waist and he’s pulling you closer, pressing his lips against yours firmly as he follows your lead, his entire world flipping on its axis in the process.

He doesn’t want this to end, has never been less interested in a game of hockey, ever, in his life, because all he wants right now is to take you straight back to The Mark and kiss you till the sun comes up, kiss your lips, your neck, your collarbone, trail those kisses down your stomach and -

You pull away, eyes glazed over a little and still lingering on his lips. On instinct, Andrei licks them, and your eyes flash, tracing the movement of his tongue.

“I um…” You start to say, but Andrei leans down and kisses you again. It’s chaste, not nearly enough of what he wants to do, but it’s enough for now.

“I know,” he murmurs. Because he does. “Later,” he promises.

Based on the look in your eyes, you know he’ll keep it.

It’s later on during the game that Andrei feels a tap on his shoulder, and he tears his eyes away from the ice, looking to where Coach is pointing.

It’s the jumbotron, and there’s some kid dancing free and wild, people in the stands cheering him on or dancing along with him, but behind him, Andrei’s attention is stolen.

Because there you are, dancing with your friends, looking so wild and free, and a smile creeps up on his face. Then, that’s when he spots it.

Your jersey.

The seven evident on one arm, the three on the other.

Your friend Maya grabs you and makes you do a little twirl, and then the “SVECHNIKOV” emblazoned on your back is on the screen, and the camera zooms in tighter on the child, blowing up your image along with it. The Canes fans cheer at the sight of his jersey, some people even standing, and it does something to his insides.

His jersey.

You’re wearing his jersey.

And he never cared about shit like that before, not really. Most of the wives and girlfriends never actually wore their husband or boyfriend’s jersey unless it was for some charity event or a coordinated effort in the playoffs.

And you’re not his wife, or his girlfriend (yet), but he suddenly feels…

He feels completely less lonely. Feels less like he needs Eden’s services, and more like he just needs you.

Andrei feels like a boyfriend. A proper one. Yours.

“They still love you, buddy.” Coach Brind’amour says, and Andrei laughs, playing it off.

“That’s cheating,” he admits, gesturing to the screen, where they finally move onto another person. “That one was mine.”

Coach’s eyebrows raise a little. “The girl in the jersey?”

He nods, suddenly sheepish. He did say he was going to introduce you as his girlfriend, and you said you were alright with it, so he tells Coach “Yeah, she’s mine.”

“Well shit, Svechy.” Brind’amour teases. “About damn time.”

Yeah, he thinks to himself. I know.

He pulls out his phone then, shooting off a text.

Andrei: You little sneak

The three dots pop up, then disappear, then pop up again before your message comes through.

Almaznyy: You like it?

Andrei: I never thought I’d say this in my life, but I’ll like it better when it’s on the bedroom floor

Almaznyy: I think that can be arranged

Andrei’s bouncing off the walls with anticipation as the elevator ascends to your hotel suite.

The Hurricanes won the game, and while he’s excited for the team, he’s also pretty fucking excited for himself.

It’s like your kiss broke the dam within him, destroying all of his restraint and hesitation. He’d been shaking with anticipation as every second passed between the second he left your suite to the very second he’d been able to get back to you once he was done playing Assistant General Manager.

That’s something he’d never thought he’d say in his life.

He was fucking ecstatic to have this job, to be given a job for the team he’d stuck with since day one, a team that had given him everything.

But this? You?

This felt like a once in a lifetime kind of thing, and he wasn’t going to waste another second away from you.

A part of him felt bad about you saying goodbye to your friends so early, but this was his time with you.

Technically, as twisted as it made him feel, he paid for it…so…

When he finally unlocks the door to the suite, you saunter inside ahead of him, stripping off your shoes, socks, his jacket and your beanie, dropping them to the floor. His heart pounds harder in his chest, watching as you turn your head over your shoulder just slightly, enough so that he can see the mischievous smile on your face before you unbutton and unzip your jeans, dropping them to the floor and stepping out of them, sauntering ahead toward the bedroom with a flick of your hair behind you.

“Yebat’,” he groans out loud. Fuck.

The sight of your bare thighs hidden beneath his jersey is the last thing he sees before you round the corner, and the image of those thighs wrapped around his head tents his pants in a second and propels him forward, stripping off his tie and suit jacket and kicking his shoes and socks off as he goes, leaving them in the same trail as your belongings.

When he gets to the bedroom, you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, all jersey and bare thighs, and the smile that spreads on his face is wide and bright.

“Posmotri na sebya,” he murmurs. Look at you.

He steps in front of you, inches between you now, and takes in the way your eyes track him as he gets on his knees, placing his hands beside you on the edge of the bed and leaning forward.

You spread your legs a little to let him settle between them, and Andrei closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours as he shuts his eyes, losing himself in the feel of you. He feels your hands drift up his chest, gathering the material of his shirt and pulling him closer.

He feels your thighs bracketing his torso, then they’re wrapping around him, ankles locking behind him and he bites down on your lip a little, a small pleased sound leaving your mouth that reverberates in his body.

“C’mere,” you say between kisses, and he rises up, places his hands under your thighs as he moves the two of you up the bed, resting you against the pillows and slowly placing his weight on top of you.

“Almaznyy,” his own voice sounds far away to him, probably because that’s where he feels like he is.

He feels like this is too good to be true, like this is all a dream and he’s going to wake up any second and feel like the last month that you’ve been in his life has all been an illusion.

Everything’s moving so fast, and he just…he’s suddenly worried that you might not be on the same page.

It makes him pull away, just a fraction, and you make a small noise of protest, trying to pull him back to you.

Andrei smiles, catching your hand and kissing it. “It’s okay,” he says. “I just…” He pauses, swallowing past a lump in his throat.

You tilt your head, taking in his expression. “What is it, Andrei?”

He shakes his head - partly out of disbelief that this is happening, and partly because he’s worried this is all in his head. “I don’t want to do something you don’t want. I don’t want to do anything if you don’t want it too.”

“Andrei, Andrei look at me.” You implore, framing his face with your hands. “I’m here, with you. Not because I have to be, not because of this job, I am here with you at this moment because I want to be, okay? I want this. I want you.”

It’s exactly what he needed to hear, but suddenly the words are too much to bear, it feels like something he doesn’t deserve.

“What do you need?” He pleads. If he can know what you need him to do, maybe he’ll feel better about deserving this moment with you. “Tell me what you need here, what you need tonight, what you need from me. What can I do, almaznyy?”

“I just need you,” you coo, pulling him back down to you for another kiss.

“Is that all?” He presses, resisting for just a moment to look you in the eyes, so you can see him, so you can understand.

He’s asking about tonight and beyond, asking about what he can do to help you get what you need out of this arrangement, to make this more than a contractual obligation.

“Just you, Andrei,” you repeat, meeting his gaze straight on.

“If we do this…” he begins. “If we do this, then…”

“I know,” you insist. “I still want it. Do you?”

Andrei shakes his head, smiling at you. There’s…he can’t put it into words.

The draw he feels to you is…otherworldly.

And you’re beneath him now, in his jersey, his last name on your back, four dates under your belt, and you’ve got the most insane chemistry together, and he already likes you so much that he worries it would scare you if you knew how badly he’s wanted you since that very first second.

“You don’t get it,” he insists, bending his head a little, rubbing his nose against yours gently. “The things I want…if we do this…” he says again, finding your eyes. “If we do this, there’s no going back. Do you understand? If I touch you, I can’t go back.”

You nod, “I know. I don’t want to go back.”

You’re still not answering his question, not really, and he knows that.

“You can tell me you know,” Andrei breathes out, still a little dazed that this is happening. “You can tell me anything.”

You smile at him, nodding and murmuring “I know,” before pulling him down to kiss you again, and he feels it, feels the way you try to communicate to him through your lips, pressing your body against his, that this - here and now - is mutual.

And that’s going to have to be enough.

This time, there’s no more waiting, no more hesitating, and he kisses you back full force, pressing his hips to yours and pushing you into the mattress. His hands wander up the jersey, feeling the lace material at your hip and on your ribs and he needs to see it.

You must read his mind, because you’re reaching between the two of you and grabbing at the jersey, pulling it up and over your head, and all Andrei sees is black lace.

His cock throbs painfully against the zipper of his pants, and he meets your eyes for just a second, asking permission, and you’ve barely nodded before he’s bending his head, sucking the skin of your exposed breast into his mouth and groaning at the taste of you, the feel of your skin beneath his tongue.

You gasp a little, back arching and he winds his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer as his name crosses your lips in a dreamy sigh.

“Say it again,” he demands, dragging his teeth over your skin as he switches to your other breast, pressing his palms against your back. “Say my name again, almaznyy.”

“Andrei,” you breathe out without hesitation, “Feels so good.”

He sucks your skin into his mouth, flicking his eyes up to gauge your reaction, and when he finds you already looking at him, his pulse skyrockets, and your hips move, grinding your core against his clothed abdomen.

Freeing one hand from behind you, he brings it forward and between your bodies, trailing his fingers over the lace and down toward your core, pressing gently against the lace, a moan escaping his throat before he can stop it when he feels how wet you are.

“This for me?” He murmurs quietly, trailing his tongue in the valley between your breasts, playing with the hem between your legs.

You nod, breath coming out in heated pants. “Only you, Andrei. Just you.”

Only you.

Just you.

He lets those words ring in his ears, lets the syllables settle in his bones and cloud his mind when he presses his fingers at the fabric and tears, ripping the black lace thong from your body before stuffing them in his pocket and shuffling down the bed.

You’re sitting up on your elbows, looking down your body at him as he parts your thighs, his large hands digging into the flesh as his eyes take in the one place he never imagined he’d be lucky enough to see in his life.

“Trakhni menya,” he nearly croaks. Fuck me.

Your glistening pink heat stares at him, inviting him closer, calling to him, and he answers the call without a moment’s hesitation, leaning forward and burying his face between your thighs, dipping his tongue into your dripping center and sucking.

The sound of his lips and mouth working against your pussy fill the bedroom quickly, obscene and loud noises echoing off the walls. He eats you unabashed, unashamed, and unrestricted. You thrash against his mouth as pleased moans and whines escape your throat one after the other.

Your hands fly into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp and tugging the tresses between your fingers, pulling him closer and pushing him away all at once. His lips barely detach from your skin when he pulls away to take a breath, not wanting to be too far from his current task, not wanting your skin and your taste so far from him ever again.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and your back arches, nearly tearing your hips away from him and he moans out a little displeased sound, pulling you closer and bracketing his arms across your belly, keeping you locked against his mouth.

“Andrei,” you pant again, desperation in your tone, “Please, please I’m so close.”

He quite likes the sound of you begging.

“Come,” he commands, murmuring against your clit. “Come for me, I want to taste you.”

He sucks your clit into his mouth, hard, and he keeps his eyes on you, your face, and your body, gauging for the little tells he wants to memorize, store in his memory for the next time he gets to do this with you, and the next, and the next, and the next.

You go silent all of a sudden, heaving breaths stopping as your orgasm hits and your mouth falls open in a silent cry, brows furrowed and eyes shut tight while your grip in his hair tightens, thighs bracketing his head as your body shakes through your orgasm. The taste of you floods his mouth and he groans in delight, savoring every drop happily as he continues to lick and suck until you’re all but forcing his head away, giggling and delirious.

“Andrei please,” you breathe, “Please just come here.”

He obeys, crawling up your body until he’s close enough and he bends his head, accepting your kiss and massaging his tongue against yours, sharing your release. He lets you unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders, lets you pull his shirt over his head before he unhooks your lace bra and tosses it aside, and then you’re completely bare for him.

“Let me see you,” he pleads, sitting up and back on his haunches just so he can look at you.

You preen under his gaze, back arching slightly as you stretch, a cheshire grin crossing your features as his eyes roam over you, trying his damndest to commit the sight of you to memory.

“Ty takaya krasivaya,” he praises. You’re so beautiful, allowing his admission to linger in the air and one of his hands to wander up your calves, your thighs, before it settles on your waist, the other hand unbuckling his belt with deft fingers.

“Spasibo,” you say almost shyly, sitting up and then reaching out, unbuttoning his dress pants and then lowering the zipper.

The corner of his mouth ticks up, his expression curious. “What did I say?”

He watches with bated breath as your hands dance on the waistband of his boxer briefs, and one of your shoulders lifts in a small shrug. “I think you called me beautiful,” you respond, eyes slow as they drag up his body and toward his face.

Andrei leans down, playfully suspicious when he says “And how did you know that?”

You shake your head, dragging that beautiful bottom lip between your teeth before bringing your eyes back down, dipping your fingers into his waistband. “Lucky guess.”

Andrei doesn’t believe that for a second, but his protest dies in his throat the second your hand dips into his underwear and wraps around his cock, grip firm as you tug a little at the base of him.

A loud but pleased groan echoes out of him and his head tilts back, nearly going cross eyed as you tug again, and his hand shoots out, circling your wrist gently as he shakes his head.

When he manages to focus again, he raises his head and looks down at you, the furrow in your brow and pout of your lips damn near breaking his heart.

“Did I not do it right?” You ask, concern lacing your tone.

He reaches a hand out, thumb smoothing the furrow in your brow before dragging over your lower lip. Your tongue darts out, licking the pad of his finger before you gently suck his thumb into your mouth, and chert voz'mi, damn it if his cock doesn’t throb painfully in your grip.

“Almaznyy, I don’t think there’s a single thing you could do to me that wouldn’t be absolutely right, or feel fucking amazing. But I need this first time with you to last more than forty five seconds, okay?”

Understanding crosses your features, and a pleased smile makes its way onto your lips. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed, almost surprised, and it baffles Andrei right back.

How could you not possibly know how you undo him? How could you not know that you rattle his very existence in the best way? He feels like it’s so obvious now, like there’s no way he’s been playing it as cool as he’s believed this entire time.

He smiles at you, voice teasing when he says, “Yes, ‘oh,’ almaznyy. It’s you, it’s what you do to me.”

“You do it to me too, you know.” You say. The response is almost immediate and your words go right to his heart.

Again.

He rises from the bed then, dragging his pants and boxer briefs down his legs before he kicks them off to the side, then he’s climbing back on the bed and settling between your legs. Your hands frame his face once more when you pull him to you for a kiss, a kiss that quickly turns from innocent and reassuring to desperate and needy, soft and open mouthed as his tongue massages against yours, you opening up beneath him almost automatically, like you’ve done this together a dozen times before.

There’s a moment where he expects to be jealous, to think about the times you could’ve been like this with other people, but the moment never comes.

Because deep down, and based on the way your body comes alive under his touch, the way you respond to him, the way the two of you move like your bodies know each other inside and out already, Andrei knows, he just knows that neither of you have ever experienced something this perfect in your entire lives.

“Condom?” He asks between kisses, trying to work through his mental checklist. “Do you want me to put on a condom?”

You barely even hesitate when you say “No, I’m clean. I know you are, too. I want to feel you. Is that okay?”

God. “It’s more than okay, almaznyy,” he assures you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I want the same.”

His cock slips against your pussy where you’re soaked for him all over again, and you both moan, grinding against one another as you make out until the need for one another just becomes too much to bear.

“Ask me,” he says, nearly begging. Because as right as this is, he still needs to know that you want this too, and that he’s not just imagining things. “Ask me for it.”

Your voice is syrupy when you ask “Please Andrei, please put it in. I want you so badly. I want you, just you, Andrei, no one else and I - oh my-”

Your words are cut off as you gasp on an inhale, mouth open in another silent cry as your back arches, hips tilting just so that Andrei has to focus, has to keep his hips still as he focuses solely on the way you flutter around him and squeeze as he pushes in just an inch. The look on your face, the way your body reacts has him nearly roaring with satisfaction, with pride, his mind going blank as two words run through his brain on a loop.

Ona moya, he thinks. She’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.

You’re his. You belong to him, and he belongs to you. There’s nothing else in this world that makes sense.

“Breathe, almaznyy,” he pleads, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “Need you to breathe, need you to tell me if it’s too much.”

Your head shakes, frantic, and your next inhale is deep, gathering enough air in your lungs to steady yourself, and he rises again, eyes scanning your face desperately, needing you to be okay.

Your eyes lock almost instantly, and the look on your face is pleading, your words articulating the desperation behind them when you say “More, Andrei, please. Pozhaluysta.”

He curses, cock throbbing when he pushes inside another inch, and your hands fly to his ass, nails digging into the flesh of his cheeks as you try to pull him closer. “I know, I know,” he assures, “I’ve got you, almaznyy.”

“I’m so close again already, Andrei.” You murmur, tilting your head up and speaking the words against his jaw. “Please, just wanna feel you. Want you all the way inside.”

The way your words affect him feel nearly criminal, and he almosts debates grabbing his tie from out in the living area of the suite or your torn thong from his pants on the floor and using either of them to gag you, keep your mouth shut and stop him from blowing his load before he’s ready.

“Okay,” he says instead, trying to ease your desperation as well as his own. He pushes inside a little more, and when you nod, pleased mewls spilling through your lips, he keeps going until he’s seated all the way inside, can feel his balls pressing against your ass cheeks, and you both let out a satisfied groan.

“Khoroshaya devochka,” good girl, “taking me so well,” he praises, and you nod, eyes glazed over in pleasure.

“For you,” you say, all breathy. “Just for you.”

His hips stutter, causing him to pull out and push back in just a fraction, but it’s enough that your eyes flutter. “What did I say?” He asks, and watches in amazement when you give him a lazy smile, eyes still lost in the way he’s making you feel.

“You said I was a good girl,” you say, though it comes out slow, and Andrei nods, dropping a kiss to your lips, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away and pushes up on his arms.

“I did,” he confirms. He drags his hips backward until just the tip of him rests inside of you, and then he pushes forward, burying himself back to the hilt. The moan that echoes across the walls buries itself in his mind as he catalogs the sound.

He starts to fuck you in earnest then, hands resting on the backs of your thighs to keep you propped open and spread for him, allowing him to watch the way his cock disappears inside of you, the way you take him over and over, his cock glistening with your arousal everytime he pulls out. The sounds your bodies make are probably obscene, but they sound like perfection in his mind, and he keeps at it, his eyes locked on your face to gauge your reactions, to make sure that he’s not giving you anything but mind blowing pleasure.

It’s all you deserve. He’ll give you nothing but the best, and if it’s not to your standards, he won’t stop until he gets it right, until he knows everything you like, until his legs burn and his jaw aches and he knows every single way he can make you come until you see stars and your voice is shot from screaming his name.

“Andrei,” you breathe, hands fisted in the sheets. “I’m going to come.”

He nods, “Do it, almaznyy. I want to see. Let me see you.”

“Want you to come with me,” you plead, and he feels his balls tighten at your plea.

Your bodies know one another, he’s certain of it now.

“I will,” he promises. “Need you to come first, need to make sure you come first. Come for me and I’ll give you anything and everything, I promise.”

Your pussy flutters around him again, and he drives his hips forward, focused on fucking you until your flutters turn into a near death grip as you squeeze him, back breaking on an arch as his name crosses your lips in ecstasy, body shaking as your orgasm rocks through your body.

Your arms shoot out as you yank him down, and when you kiss him, when he swallows your cries as your release drips down his cock, he can feel a tight knot form at the base of his spine as his orgasm hits him like a freight train.

His arms shake as he keeps you open to him, cock throbbing as his orgasm pulses inside of you, filling you to the brim as he claims you from the inside.

“Ty moy,” he says as his orgasm begins to calm, pressing the words into your hairline. “Tol'ko moy.”

You’re mine, only mine.

“Andrei,” you say, his name sounding like a plea and a confirmation to his words all at once, and his heart hammers in his chest.

If you only knew, almaznyy. He wants to say.

But his name on your lips is enough for now.

It has to be.

November

He wakes up hard.

Images of you run through his brain from his dreams into his waking life and he sighs, reaching for his phone on his bedside table.

There’s a text there from you, telling him goodnight after you got off the phone earlier, and though it’s late - or maybe too early in the morning, he’s not sure - he calls you anyway, figuring he could just leave a voicemail, and a surprised bolt of joy blooms in his chest when you actually answer.

“Thought you were asleep, malysh.” You say, and Andrei can hear your smile through the phone.

“I never should have taught you that word,” he teases. He’d taught it to you the morning after your first night together, after he’d pressed the word into your neck while he fucked you from behind.

“Why not?” You feign hurt. “You get to call me something cute, why can’t I?”

What he really wants to call you is your name, but he knows he can’t ask, and since you still haven’t offered, it’s probably because you don’t feel like the two of you are in the right place for it.

You’ll get there, the two of you, he’s sure of it. He’s waited this long, he can wait a little more.

“You’re just going to use it to torment me,” he says, sighing as he leans back against his headboard.

You hum to yourself. “Well you’re clearly tormenting yourself if you’re awake right now. What’s going on?”

He shrugs even though he knows you can’t see him. “Ya skuchayu po tebe,” he says. “Kazhdyy den'.”

I miss you, every day.

It’s only been a couple of weeks, but it feels like months in his mind. Especially now that he’s had you in his arms, now that he knows what it sounds like when you say his name when he makes you come, now that he knows what you taste like, how you feel beneath his hands and body, it’s like he’s got a craving he can’t satisfy and he can’t help but want more, even if it leaves him feeling starved.

“Oh Andrei,” you coo, adoration in your voice. “I miss you too.”

His heart stops and he takes a deep breath, clutching his phone tighter. “How do you know what I said?”

“I have my ways.” You say cryptically, and he can hear your mischievous smile through the phone.

“Have you been taking lessons?” He inquires. It’s possible, given how much you understood that night and so far.

You giggle, “What’s making you miss me so much?”

He’ll accept your change of subject…for now. “Can’t get enough of you.” He confesses, “I can’t stop thinking about the last time I saw you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” you say. “Or that night.”

Andrei feels butterflies in his stomach followed by a wave of sadness. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again,” he says honestly. “We’re in the height of the season now, and we’ve got a decent stretch of home games coming up, so it’ll be hard to get away to New York.”

“We don’t have to meet in New York, you know.” You say. “I can always come to Raleigh.”

He blinks, bolting upright so quick it almost makes him dizzy. “You can?”

“Yeah, Eden allows it so that we can travel wherever we need to. You don’t have to always formally book dates and times unless it’s based on your schedule.” You say. “I can always come to you, I just thought that…”

Your voice trails off, and Andrei frowns. “Thought what?”

You hesitate, and he feels it form a crack in his chest. “I thought you needed something more discreet, and that you liked being in Manhattan for the secrecy, so I never mentioned anything else. Plus, you always booked for The Mark Hotel, so…”

When you don’t continue, he swallows a lump in his throat. “I didn’t really know that. I guess I didn’t fully understand the booking parameters. Plus, I thought it was easier for you.” He winces at his word choice. “Not because of Eden, or anything, but because it was where we first met? So I thought it would be more comfortable for you..”

“No I understand, Andrei, I do.” You reassure him. “But I can come to you, if you’d like. If that’s what you want, or what you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love that.” He says almost immediately. “I would love to have you here.”

You arrive in Raleigh two days later, Andrei picking you up from the airport. You’d offered to take an Uber since Eden would be footing the bill, but Andrei didn’t like that idea.

You were his girl, his companion, and he’d take care of you himself, thank you very much.

He parks in the garage and waits for you at baggage claim, hiding beneath a baseball cap and his reading glasses just in case any fans recognize him. It doesn’t help that despite the fact that he’s retired, he knows his face is still plastered at the terminal exit as passengers come out and take the escalators down toward baggage claim.

Thankfully, you don’t make him wait long. He spots you coming down the escalator, wearing sweatpants and a baggy shirt Andrei recognizes as his own, a flannel tied around your waist and a duffel bag hanging off of one shoulder, your bracelet glittering in the fluorescent lights of the airport.

You spot him just as quickly, and Andrei enjoys the way the smile that stretches across your lips forms almost immediately.

Andrei’s moving before he realizes, and he ends up at the bottom of the escalator just in time for you to step off of it, and then he’s hauling you into his arms by your waist, your own wrapping around his neck as he lifts you a little and spins you around, careful to move you both out of the way in the process.

Happy giggles spill from your lips as he presses kisses all over your face, grinning from ear to ear when he sets you down on your feet.

“Hi, almaznyy.” He greets quietly, arms still secured around you.

You rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his jaw, greeting him with an equally soft “Hi, malysh.”

He takes your hand and leads you over to the baggage claim area for your flight, choosing a spot close to the belt but far enough away from other passengers that he can still have you all to himself.

“How was your flight?” He asks, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

“It was good,” you say, resting your head against his arm. “I’m just happy I’m here.”

“So am I, almaznyy.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the buzzer goes off and the belt of the baggage carousel starts to move.

You point out your suitcase after a few minutes and Andrei insists on grabbing it and taking your duffel from you, carrying both so the only thing you have to worry about holding is his hand in yours.

You make it out to his car and he makes sure to get you inside safe and sound before he places your things in the backseat, despite your protests of your suitcase messing up his leather interior.

He could care fucking less about that. All he cares about right now is that you’re here, in Raleigh, that he’s about to take you home for the first time, and that according to the confirmation email he got after you got off the phone the other night, the ticket Eden helped you arrange to Raleigh was a one way ticket.

Meaning you were here for as long as either of you wanted, with no clear plans to send you back, and he liked that a lot.

He also liked that your suitcase felt heavy, meaning you probably packed for a long time.

All things that made Andrei feel like he should probably get a gift basket for Olly and Mason as a thank you for not being able to keep their traps shut at that dinner, maybe talk to Coach about getting them more ice time, maybe negotiating more money in their next contracts.

You held hands the entire drive to his house, your bracelet and his Rolex glinting in the sunlight from where they accompanied one another on his center console, and when he finally pulled into his garage and shut off his car, he felt a sudden rush of excitement fill his veins, and excitement he’d only felt whenever he got his day with the Cup.

It was that initial feeling of him being able to carry it over the threshold into his home that made the victory feel surreal, and as he wheeled your luggage and carried your bag, holding your hand as he guided you inside his home and over the threshold, he realized this feeling, bringing you home, was better than any Cup championship he’d experienced.

It wasn’t even close.

The only thing that could possibly come second flashed in his mind, and images of him being able to bring you over this threshold in a white dress, layers of tulle flowing like a waterfall over his arms, and then not long after, being able to escort you over the threshold as you held a bundled up baby in your arms.

It seized the breath from his lungs so quickly he nearly choked.

He’d never given so much thought to a god damn doorway before.

Oblivious to his predicament, you trail behind him as he leads you to his bedroom, eyes roaming over the expanse of his home, taking in every last detail.

“I’ll give you a full tour once you’re settled in,” he promises. “I just want to make sure you get comfortable first.”

“Okay,” you agree, voice soft in the mid morning hour.

When you finally get to his room, he lays your suitcase down on the bench at the foot of the bed, placing your duffel bag next to it. “You can sleep on whatever side you’d like,” he says, gesturing to the bed. “Feel free to make yourself at home. Bathroom’s through there,” he points to a door near the closet, “Fresh towels are already out for you. Would you like something to eat? I can make you lunch.”

You shake your head. “No, I'm okay for now, I ate a little on the plane.”

“Are you sure? Can I get you anything else?” he asks.

You shake your head again with a small smile, tilting your head toward the bathroom. “I’m sure, Andrei. Do you mind if I shower?”

“Of course not, feel free. I’ll uh…I’ll be in my office just down the hall, there’s something I have to take care of anyway.”

He closes the distance and drops a kiss to your lips, squeezing your waist in his hand before he leaves, wanting to give you space to yourself, to feel comfortable in his home.

Oh god.

You’re in his home.

His actual fucking house.

He can’t seem to get over that as nerves begin to settle in, tossing his hat to his desk once he’s in his office, running a hand through his hair.

He hasn’t been this nervous to bring someone home ever. He’d been so excited just to see you again, to have you here that it wasn’t until now that he worried what you’d think of the space, if you’d find it comfortable and homey and welcoming.

With a sigh, he pushes his glasses further up his nose as he opens his laptop, bringing up his emails and sorting through some of the things he needed to take care of for the team, welcoming the distraction even though it made him feel uncomfortable to think of anything but you for longer than a millisecond.

Especially when you were down the hall, in his bedroom, in his shower, naked.

The same shower he’d jerked off in thinking about you this morning, and last night. And the night before.

“O Gospodi, chto zhe ya nadelal,” he mutters to himself. Oh lord, what have I done?

He spends the next fifteen minutes willing himself to focus on the emails in front of him, tasks for him to finish up, people to respond back to, people to reach out to at the behest of the team owners and Coach Brind’amour. When his emails clear, he shuts his laptop and pulls out his phone, busying himself with responding to texts from Evgeny about the upcoming holidays, getting back to Evgeny’s wife, Sara, about potential Christmas presents for his brother, and his parents, checking in on them both.

It busies him enough that when you finally walk into his office - wet hair still dripping a little and body dressed in a baby pink spaghetti strap sundress, the only jewelry on you being the bracelet you never take off, your bare feet padding onto the carpet - he doesn’t notice at first.

That is, not until you’re on the other side of his desk, knocking your fist playfully on the wood.

Andrei’s head snaps up from his phone, and he leans back a little in relief in his chair when he notices it’s you, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “You almost scared me there.”

“Sorry,” you breathe out in a laugh. “I believe I have an appointment with you, Mr. Svechnikov?”

He’s confused at first, until he sees the way your eyes twinkle mischievously, and he smirks. “Is that so?”

You nod, clasping your hands behind your back. “Mhm, I believe you’ve been expecting me, and I know you don’t like it when I’m late.”

Andrei places his phone back in his pocket, then folds his hands across his abdomen, resting his elbows on the armrest of his chair. “What is it you’re meant to be meeting with me about?”

“Don’t you remember? I’m your new assistant,” you say, releasing one of your hands from behind your back and trailing a finger on the other side of his desk. “I’ve been hired to help you and ensure your daily needs are met.”

“You’re a little underdressed to be an assistant, aren’t you?” He asks, tilting his head curiously.

You look down with a small pout, then back up to his face. “You don’t like it?”

“Hmmm, it’s hard to tell. Why don’t you come around the desk and let me see?”

He backs his chair up a little as you round the desk and then come to stand between his spread legs. Andrei pretends to deliberate, raising his hand in the air and twirling his finger before saying “Turn around, let me see all of you.”

A shy smile works its way onto your face as you do a little turn, his cock immediately growing hard as he observes you taking slow steps to complete your circle before facing him once more, clasping your hands in front of you. “Well?”

“I think,” Andrei says, scooting his chair closer to you before his hands make their way to the backs of your thighs, thumbs rubbing at your skin. “That you’re perfect.”

“Why thank you,” you murmur, reaching a hand out and cupping his cheek. “You’re very sweet.”

He shakes his head a little. “If you knew what was going through my head right now, you’d disagree.”

“Well, what’s going through your head?” You inquire, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone.

“Why don’t you hop up on the desk and maybe you’ll find out?” He says, punctuating his statement with a light slap to the backs of one of your thighs. You gasp a little, leaning into him, and Andrei smiles, tightening his grip on your thighs as he stands, and you jump a little into his arms, your arms winding themselves around his neck as he backs you both up two steps, setting you down onto the wood of his desk gently.

“I always have a lot going on in my head when it comes to you,” he admits, reaching up to grab your hands, kissing the backs of them before bringing them down to your lap. “I just don’t want you to…I guess I just don’t want to scare you away.”

“Skazhi mne,” you encourage, voice soft. Tell me.

Andrei’s eyes flash. “Tell me where you’re learning Russkiy.” He demands.

You giggle, “What’s going on in your head?” You ask him instead, and he narrows his eyes a little.

One of these days he’s not going to let you change the subject, but for now, he plays along. “I think about you sometimes,” he admits, circling his fingers around the bracelet on your wrist, pads running over the diamond studded vines. “I think about you on this desk, like you are now.”

“And?” You press, tracking his every move with your eyes.

He hesitates to say more, unsure of how far to go with this, unsure of what he should reveal and what would be too…scandalous.

“What about me on the desk, Andrei?” You ask, reaching a hand out to trail down his abdomen, resting on the waistband of his jeans.

He shakes his head, cheeks heating as his face goes red. He’s too ashamed, feels like he shouldn’t have been thinking such…dirty things about someone as pure as you. “I can’t, almaznyy. I-”

You surge up then, pulling his waistband at the same time and kissing him, hands traveling up his abdomen and to his face, where you pull his reading glasses off and set them on the desk next to his phone. Then, you take him by surprise, placing your hands firmly on his chest and shoving him back down into his desk chair.

“I think this is where I, as your assistant, can help you articulate those thoughts.” You start, his favorite cheshire smile of yours creeping onto your lips. “Since it’s my job to make sure your needs are met, and to anticipate any future needs.”

“Are you sure about that?” He asks, well aware of how hard he’s breathing.

You nod, and without another word, spread those glorious legs of yours to reveal your bare pussy.

Andrei’s breath catches in his throat. “Almaznyy,” he breathes, the word coming out like a pained sound.

“Malysh,” you say, voice teasing as your hand, the one donning your bracelet, comes forward and runs down your stomach and to the hem of your dress, pulling it up to bare yourself to him a little more.

He doesn’t know where to look. He wants to look at your face, wants to watch your facial expressions, but then he also wants to watch your hands, memorize the way you touch yourself so he can mimic the movements later, and he wants to keep his eyes locked on that little piece of heaven you’ve got between your thighs.

“Will this make it easier for you to tell me what’s on your mind?” You ask, trailing your fingers down and collecting the wetness already gathering, dragging it back up to circle your clit.

All he can do is nod, too entranced by your ministrations. He can feel his mouth start to water, watching one of the spaghetti straps of your sundress start to fall off of one shoulder, and good lord -

He reaches out, rubbing the hem of your sundress between his fingers. “Ty golaya pod etim plat'yem, krasavitsa?”

Are you naked under this dress, beautiful?

Your brow furrows as your fingers continue to move in deliberate circles, and Andrei memorizes the pattern, tucks it away in his brain for later. “I don’t…I didn’t understand all of that,” you admit.

He smirks, but doesn’t repeat himself. He doesn’t know if he has the energy to think in just one language, let alone two right now, because all of his focus is directed on you and your body.

“Boleye,” he pleads. More.

Now that you seem to understand, because you part your legs a little wider, scooting more toward the edge of his desk as you continue touching yourself.

Andrei rolls his desk chair a little closer so you can place your feet on the armrests and essentially bracket him in, giving him the perfect front row seat to everything going on. He reaches for his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them before he’s reaching inside his boxer briefs and pulling out his cock, giving it a rough tug to ease some of the pressure.

Your pupils blow out wide as you watch him, and he jerks his chin at where your fingers are moving up and down your pussy now, where he can see the digits glistening from his vantage point.

“Move your hand.” He orders, and you do, prepared to move it to the side to rest on your thigh, but then Andrei’s making a small “tsk” noise, and your hand hovers in the air for a second.

“Give it to me,” he says, holding one hand out while the other strokes his cock in slow movements. You place your hand in his and then he’s bringing the arousal coated digits to his mouth, sucking them between his lips and massaging the pads with his tongue, cleaning away your wetness and swallowing it down with a pleased rumble in his chest.

Your fingers leave his mouth in a soft ‘pop’ when he pulls them out, and he brings both hands to rest under your thighs, pulling you just a little bit closer to the edge, allowing his desk chair to also roll forward until there’s practically no space between you both, and then he’s bending his head, lips latching onto your pussy and sucking hard.

A surprised moan crosses your lips and Andrei’s hands hold you steady as you thrash a little, clearly not expecting him to just dive in so eagerly. Your hands slam against the desk behind you, using them to try to prop you up and keep you steady, and Andrei’s eyes are glued to your face.

He managed to learn what you liked best that first night, having the privilege to have taken you four times that night, insisting on tasting you every chance he got. He knows now that you like it when he turns his head just a little, tilting it so it’s nearly sideways and taking your labia and clit into his mouth and sucking, licking across the center of your cunt and teasing it as if he’s making out with you.

So when he tilts his head and does just that, taking you into his mouth the way you like, his name spews from your lips in a breathy sigh, and your arms shake at your sides.

Eagerly, he laps at you and moans in satisfaction when the taste of you and smell of you overwhelms his senses, having also learned that you like hearing him, like hearing how much he’s enjoying you and how excited he is to get you to come on his tongue. He doesn’t exaggerate the noises his mouth makes against you but does nothing to lessen or quiet them.

It’s his fucking house, and you’re on his fucking desk, at the mercy of his lips and tongue and spread out by his hands, so he’ll do whatever he god damn pleases. You can cry out for God for all he cares, it’s just the two of you in this room, and the only ‘God’ to answer your prayers for more is going to be him.

“Andrei,” you moan, turning his name into a plea and dammit does he love that, too. It’s a sound he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. “Pozhaluysta,” you beg. Please.

You don’t have to beg, he wants to tell you. You don’t have to beg me for a goddamn thing. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just ask me and it’s yours, I’m yours.

Instead, he just nods, pressing his tongue against you in the way he knows you like and spreading your thighs apart, pressing against the back of them to expose you to him more so he can feast on you properly.

It’s messy, wet, and loud, and Andrei couldn’t give a single fuck, not when you’re so close, your arousal dripping down his chin and your thighs are pressing up against his palm, shaking as you get closer and threatening to squeeze his head between the strong muscles.

“Can I come, Andrei?” You ask, syrupy sweet and desperate and his cock throbs in response.

He nods, brushing his nose against your clit as he does and you jolt, body nearly shaking in relief when his lips circle around your clit and he sucks in the pulsing rhythm he discovered had you coming in no time time, his tongue lapping at you and drawing you closer to release.

When your orgasm hits, your whole body shakes under his touch, and your arms fall out from under you, your back landing on his desk and then arching up, pressing you further into his mouth. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t back away, doesn’t do anything until you’re pushing at his head, and whining at the over sensitivity.

“Please malysh,” you beg, shaking against his mouth as he continues to lap at you. “It’s too much.”

“I’m a little busy, almaznyy,” he murmurs against your clit. “I’m cleaning up my assistant.”

You laugh through heaving breaths, fingers descending into Andrei’s hair and gripping the strands tight in your fist, tugging a little. He relents, pressing gentle kisses to your skin as you sit up, and then you’re fisting his shirt in your grasp, yanking him upright and kissing him, slipping your tongue inside his mouth and chasing the taste of yourself on his tongue.

You take him by surprise in the next second, shoving him back down in his chair and then licking the palm of your hand, wrapping it around his cock and twisting.

He hisses, hands gripping at your calves. He’s too sensitive and far too hard to be able to handle your touch. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to handle it, especially not now that he knows every inch of your skin and how it feels against his.

“Almaznyy,” he warns through clenched teeth when you twist your first over the head of his cock, squeezing and swiping at the bead of precum on his tip with your thumb. “Stop teasing.”

“Is that an order, Mr. Svechnikov?” You taunt, squeezing the head of his cock once more.

A low groan leaves his lips, and he has half a mind to reach up and wrap his fingers around your throat, but instead, all he can do is hiss out a pained “Yes,” and then you’re using your other hand to reach out, yanking him a little closer before scooting all the way off of his desk and sitting right on his cock, taking him to the hilt in one go.

The gasp that leaves you both simultaneously is loud and echoes around his office, probably even down the hallway, and he can barely gather enough air in his lungs before you’re rising up again and then dropping down, and it feels like he’s going to burst at the seams.

“Oh my god,” he says, the words feeling like they’re being punched out of him as you slowly start to bounce on him. He tracks the way both of the straps of your dress hang off of your shoulders, the way that the bottom part of your dress is still raised from where he’d pushed it up earlier, and the bounce of your tits beneath the neckline.

He reaches out, tugging the neckline down and freeing them, and then you’re moving, sitting up a little taller, thighs bracketing his as you keep your pace bouncing on his cock, arching your back just so that when Andrei leans forward, he can easily suck your nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue over the bud while sucking your skin, hoping a hickey blooms there for him to admire later.

The moans spilling from your lips tell him you enjoy it, so he continues, switching to the other side and giving you teasing licks before he mimics his previous ministrations, sucking hard enough to hopefully produce matching marks.

Your hands find their way into the longer hair at the nape of his neck and tug so he’s looking up at you, and Andrei sees the way your glassy eyes take in his fucked out expression, sees how it spurs you on, your mouth dropping open in an ‘O’ everytime you sink down on his cock till he’s balls deep, then raise yourself up on your knees.

“Khoroshaya devochka,” he praises. Good girl. “Take it from me. Make yourself come on my cock.”

Nodding, you speed up just a little, thighs tightening on either side of his, and Andrei’s hands go to your ass, gripping the flesh and helping to move you up and down his length, keeping his eyes on your face to watch you, waiting for the way your eyes start to roll in the back of your head and waiting for the beautiful flutter of your pussy on his cock to let him know when you’re going to come.

“Andrei,” you whine, your grip in his hair loosening a little. “I’m so close.”

“I’ve got you,” he swears. He means it in every way possible. “Take what you need.” He punctuates his statement by burying his face in your neck and sucking on that sensitive spot he found last time, and it has you clenching around him in seconds, crying out as you pulse around him, body seizing as your orgasm washes over.

He has to take control then, gripping your hips and fucking you through it the way he knows you like, and it’s not long before he’s following behind you, pressing you down onto his cock as he pushes his pelvis upward, sealing the two of you together as he fills you up with his come, pulse hammering so hard in his body he can feel it in his ears.

As your orgasms subside, gently, he rubs up and down your back, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck and collarbone, happy to just sit here with you on top of him until you’re ready to move.

Eventually, you speak, voice a little raspy when you say “I think I need another shower after that.”

Andrei laughs, slowly standing and wrapping your legs around his waist, still fully seated inside you. “I think shower sex sounds like an excellent idea.”

The longer you stay with him, you two start to develop the beginnings of a routine together, and Andrei finds himself clinging to it like a lifeline.

In the mornings, you’re usually up first, wandering to some part of his massive house and drinking a steaming cup of tea or coffee, and it feels a bit like a game, Andrei wandering after you through his house to find where you’ve situated yourself for that morning. You usually only drink half of whatever you’ve made that morning, and when he finds you, he drinks the rest, still warm, before he takes your hand and drags you into the shower.

The first morning he did it, you pushed him to the built in shower bench and sank to your knees, took him in your mouth until he saw stars and came deep down your throat with a loud groan, repeating “Almaznyy” over and over until you took pity on him and released him from your mouth with a soft “pop,” the water trailing over your face making you look like a damn goddess.

He came within like…five minutes, that first time. And though you clearly loved it and reveled in the effect you had on him, he would rather each time with you last longer than ten minutes, so he decided he wouldn’t let you take him in your mouth for a little while, especially if it meant saving what he had left of his pride and ego.

Sometimes, he would put you on the shower bench and get on his knees, burying his face between your thighs until you begged him for mercy. Other times, he pressed you against the tile wall, burying himself to the hilt and finding solace with you under the warm spray, filling you to the brim before fucking it deeper inside of you.

Then, he’d wrap you up in one of his big, fluffy towels and dry you off, pressing you against the bathroom sink and kissing you until your stomachs rumbled. After getting ready for the day, he’d drag you out of the bathroom and to the kitchen where either you or him would make breakfast for the both of you, and then he’d either go to his office and work for a bit, or get dressed to head to the arena.

If he stayed home to work, you’d either sit quietly with him in his office reading a book or sketching in a worn journal, earbuds in and playing music. He’d worried you’d be bored, but you assured him you were used to having to occupy yourself with things to do. That statement made him worry even more, but since you seemed to be fine, he didn’t push.

He’d work until there was nothing left for him to do, and he’d wait for you to either finish the chapter you were reading, or finish up the sketches in your journal. He had been tempted to ask you to see them, but given the way you hunched over your journal, like you’d been protecting it, he left it alone, figuring you’d share them with him if you wanted to.

You’d spend the rest of the day together either making lunch, going out to eat, or with Andrei taking you around the Raleigh or Durham areas on little dates. So far, he’d taken you to the science museum, the North Carolina Museum of Art, taken you on a pedal boat ride in Pullen Park, brought you to Drive Shack where you both surprisingly and unsurprisingly kicked his ass, given you’d pretty much done the same when you brought him to Chelsea Piers, and just last night, he’d taken you to Rush Hour Karting.

He’d been there when he was a rookie in development camp for the Hurricanes, and he hadn’t been back in quite some time. It was nice though, to head back and make new and equally as happy memories there with you. You kicked his ass in a couple of laps, and since you’d raced with other people, there had been a round where a sixteen year old practically wiped the floor with everyone else, and it had made you and Andrei laugh a little when he’d been ready to boast about it until he saw Andrei’s face and freaked out, asking for a picture.

Those days where he could work from home and just be around you, taking the rest of his day to spend time with you, bring you anywhere and everywhere and spoil you silly? Those were beginning to be his favorite kind of days.

On the days he would go into his office at the arena, though, there are still particular advantages.

Andrei leaves his black card behind, insisting that you take it and make use of it as you need or see fit.

The first morning he left it for you, he took it out of his wallet and put it down on the kitchen counter as he was heading out the door, and you just stared down at it, brow furrowed and lower lip jutting out in slight confusion.

“What is this for?” You had asked, holding it up in the air.

“For you,” he said, like it was obvious. “For you to use?”

You pursed your lips, placed it back down on the counter and slid it back to him. “No, it’s okay.”

He frowned, ditching his bag by the door and rounded the counter to you. “I want you to have it, malyshka,” he insists.

Your face scrunched up. “I know this next statement is going to sound weird, considering my job, and the circumstances of our…uh…relationship, but I don’t want your money, Andrei.”

“I understand, almaznyy,” he assured you. “But I don’t want you to spend your money. Not while you’re here with me,” he said, then tucked the card back in your hand.

You stared at it for a second, then looked back up at his face, a small frown still on your lips, and Andrei couldn’t help but laugh. He reached out, smoothed the wrinkle between your brows and cupped your face in his palm. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and then looked down at you with an amused smile.

“How about this,” he began, “Since you’ve appointed yourself as my assistant, why don’t you take care of a few tasks for me?” He gestured to the card in your hand with his chin. “Use the card to pay for them.”

A small smile crept up your face, and you tilted your head at him, intrigued. “And what tasks would you be referring to, Mr. Svechnikov?”

“I think you need a new uniform,” he said, keeping his tone playful. “Why don’t you go and find something nice to wear around our…home office.” He punctuated those last words with a wink, smirking when you giggled. “Whatever you like, whatever the price. Get yourself some office supplies while you’re at it too, hm?”

“Oh I see,” you said. “This is a company expense, is it?”

“More or less,” he nodded, dropping another kiss to your forehead. “But I want to see everything you buy when you buy it. Send me pictures so I can see, understand? ”

You agreed with that gorgeous cheshire smile of yours. “I do.”

And god if all the blood didn’t rush straight to his cock, picturing you in white as you say those words to him in another life, another time.

When he heads to the office, he purposefully takes his red Lamborghini to the rink, leaving you the safer options of his Mercedes or his BMW to use to go and complete your ‘daily tasks,’ and Andrei waits like an impatient teenager for those texts from you to come through.

He’s saved every single picture, and thank goodness he has, because the second he gets home from work, it’s like the two of you are instantly pulled together like magnets. No matter where you are in the house, he gravitates to you, and you go at it like rabbits until one of you gets hungry, or until you’re begging him for relief. The lingerie sets barely make it ten minutes without being absolutely torn to shreds.

Though he wasn’t sure where you’d bought them, he had half a mind to march into the store and demand to know why their fabrics were so flimsy.

He's torn the first few either at the waist or right down the crotch, and one of them he all but snapped the strap of the garter belt off, the strap basically now hanging by a thread. The only things that have managed to survive after your first couple of weeks with him are a baby pink lace set complete with garter belt and stockings, and the same set, but in crimson red.

“You’re doing it on purpose,” you accuse through heavy breathing later that night, eyeing the fallen scraps of black lace among the black satin dress on the floor. The only thing that had managed to survive tonight was your thigh high stockings, which Andrei found himself running his fingers over now, your legs draped in his lap.

“What do you mean?” He questions, thumbing at where the lace of your stockings met your inner thigh.

You shivered a little, but didn’t move away from his touch, “You’re ripping them on purpose so I have to buy more, and that means I have to use your card.”

He smiles, dancing his finger over the spot inside your thigh that he’d made red by rubbing his stubbly cheek against it as he licked at you for a blissful thirty minutes. “You caught me.”

“If you wanted to be a sugar daddy you could’ve just said so.” You say lazily, stretching your body out. You probably don’t mean for it to look so seductive, but Andrei’s hypnotized nonetheless.

“I didn’t want to be,” he says honestly. “But you changed my mind a little.”

“I figured,” you murmur, casting a glance to your bracelet. “But you like it, don’t you?”

“Like what?” He asks, tugging your legs and maneuvering you until you’re straddling him again.

“Providing, spoiling, ” you purr, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I like it when it’s you.” Andrei clarifies, tilting his chin up so he can press little kisses along your jaw. “Even if I have to fight you on it a little.”

“I don’t want a sugar daddy for money,” you drawl, pushing his hair away from his face.

He stares at you, confused. “Isn’t that what they’re for?”

“If I’m gonna have a sugar daddy, I want him for sugar.” You explain, “Not money.”

“Ya ne ponimayu, chto ty imeyesh' v vidu, detka.” I don’t understand what you mean baby.

You roll your eyes playfully, pulling his chin up and kissing him softly. He moans into your mouth, hands resting on your waist and bringing you closer. You tease him with your tongue running over his bottom lip before you pull away, sitting back a little.

“That kind of sugar,” you say softly, running your thumb over his bottom lip.

It takes him a few seconds, but then it clicks, and he flashes you a cheeky grin. “Well I’ve given you plenty of that, too, haven’t I?”

You shrug, reaching between you to grab his stiff cock and bring it back to your pussy, slipping him back inside of you and sinking down slowly, “A little more wouldn’t hurt.”

He’s immediately scooting back against the pillows and then his hands are on your thighs, anchoring you to him while you ride him, beginning your fourth round of the night.

After a few weeks of you staying with him, you approach him in his home office one day as he’s about to get off of a call. There’s an apprehensive look on your face as you linger in the doorway, clearly not wanting to interrupt, but he waves you inside anyway, gesturing for you to sit on the couch against the wall.

You obey, waiting patiently until he’s hanging up and placing his phone beside his computer to stand from your seat and approach the other side of his desk.

“What can I do for you, almaznyy?” He asks, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s probably a silly question,” you preface, “But I figured I would ask just in case.”

He nods, folding his hands on his stomach. “Okay.”

“I uh…me being here isn’t interfering with your holiday plans, right? I don’t know if you do anything for Thanksgiving since you started living here, but since it’s in a week or so, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t overstaying my welcome.”

His brow furrows, mouth turning down into a frown. “You’re perfectly fine,” he assures. “I used to go to my coach’s house, but I haven't in years.” He pauses then, guilt suddenly coursing through his veins. “Am I…I’m not keeping you from your family, am I?”

You shake your head almost immediately, a strange look crossing your features. “No you’re not, we haven’t - I mean, we don’t celebrate. Haven’t in a bit.”

Andrei nods in response, but the guilt is still there, suddenly eating at his insides.

He’d been so wrapped up in you, so happy with your routines and the little corner of the world you’d managed to carve out for yourselves that he didn’t even think about the fact that he could’ve been keeping you away from your friends and family.

Or that he’s technically been keeping you away from his friends and family, too.

His mother’s been living with Evgeny the last couple of years, moving in to help Sara with their two year old and three month old babies, and his dad’s still back in Moscow, mostly by choice to help with Andrei and Evgeny’s grandparents. Evgeny and Sara sort of know he’s been seeing someone, but he hasn’t divulged much more, and he has no idea what you’ve been sharing with your family in turn.

Plus…he’s probably keeping you from other clients, which isn’t his favorite thing to think about, at all, but he can’t ignore the circumstances of how the two of you met, or how you came into his life.

So as much as it pains him to say it, he doesn’t want to be like the beast keeping you locked in his castle against your will, so he takes a deep breath, and says “Almaznyy, if you need to go home, or if you need to go back, then-”

“I don’t,” you interject. “I’m good here.”

Oh…okay…

“No one’s missing you?” He asks. “You don’t have other clients?”

“I’m good here, Andrei,” you repeat, this time a little softer, rounding the desk. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Of course I’m okay,” he assures you, reaching for your waist and pulling you into his lap. “I was the one who asked you to be here with me. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want you with me.”

You nod, body relaxing into his embrace.

There’s another sharp pain in his chest, and he rests his head resting in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

He can feel you tense for a second in surprise. “For what?”

“I didn’t think about…other people. I didn’t mean to be selfish, but I was, and I’m sorry.”

“Oh Andrei,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers scratching lightly at the base of his scalp. “I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I just…I didn’t realize how long I’d been staying here with you, and when I did, I knew I needed to check in. That’s all.”

“I like having you here,” he confesses. “It feels…”

“Natural,” you finish for him. “I know, I feel the same.”

You both settle into a small silence, Andrei content to just hold you for a second, to stay in this little bubble with you he’d built before he’d been forced to remember the two of you weren’t actually alone in this world together.

“What about Christmas?” He eventually asks you.

You nod. “My family does celebrate it, kind of. But I would have to go home for that.”

“I would too.” He confirms. “We technically celebrate Christmas twice. Once for western Christmas on the twenty fifth, and again in January for Russian Christmas.”

You lean back a little, brushing his hair away from his face, bracelet glinting in the sunlight filtering in through the window. “Guess we’ll have to make the best of this next month or so.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning up to kiss you softly. “I guess so.”

A pang of sadness hits him, already not looking forward to having to let you go.

Read Part Two Here.

#andrei svechnikov #anderi svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov fic #carolina hurricanes #mendeshoney masterlist

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