#Andrey Rublev fanfic

[game-set-canet]

could I have cute clingy giggly tipsy Andrey after getting back from celebrating a win? Love your blog

You're on my mind

Pairing: Andrey Rublev x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: Maybe i had a little too much fun writing this imagine 😂 i hope you like it as much as i do! thank you for your request 💕also: English isn’t my first language, so I’m very sorry for mistakes!

* Y/N = your name * Karen Khachanov has an almost four years old son named David

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

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It’s almost 1 a.m. when your phone vibrates on the couch table. You suppress a yawn as you try to reach your smartphone without moving too much under the blankie.

It’s a message from Karen. You raise an eyebrow and open his message: »We’re heading back to the hotel. Are you still awake?«

You sit up on the couch and start typing: »You’re already coming back? Did something happen?« and send it together with a second message – the answer to Karen’s question: »Yes, I’m awake. David is asleep since half past seven.«

You volunteered to look after David, so the boys and their teams could go out and celebrate their first double title in 2023. Usually you would join them in their celebration (which are always kinda legendary to be honest) but you have an important paper to write - due to Tuesday – and unfortunately your boss isn’t very patient.

It takes Karen only a few seconds to reply: »Good. We will be back in about 30 minutes and i’ll come and collect my son and you get your wreck back«

»My wreck?!?!«

»Well…Andrey is a bit drunk.«

»A bit?«

»You will see« the symbol under Karen’s name pops from “online” to “offline” and back to “online”, Karen is typing again: »And Andrey begged me for the last 5 minutes to tell you that he really really loves you and insisted that I’m a bad friend if I don’t tell you this.«

You shake your head and sigh: This means your boyfriend is clearly drunk. And a drunken Andrey is really special.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

You just finished collecting all your things (your smartphone, the laptop, some papers from work) when you hear the hotel room door click. In the doorway stand Karen and Andrey - or more precisely: Karen stands and supports Andrey.

“Oh my god, how much did he drink?!”, you whisper-shout – careful not to wake up David who is sleeping in the next room.

“Y/N!”, your boyfriend's face immediately lights up in a bright smile, “Y/N!”

Andrey frees himself from Karen and comes - walking in a surprisingly straight line - towards you to hug you tightly: “I missed you, baby.”

A part of you wants to point out the fact that they were away for only about three and a half hours, the other part of you can’t help but smile against Andrey’s chest while you put your arms around his waist: “Yeah, I missed you too…tell me, how much did you drink?”

“Not much!”, he shakes his head vigorously. You feel him falter because of it, and he would certainly have stumbled if he hadn't held on to you.

You pull a doubtful face and give Karen a questioning look. The older one shrugs: “He is right. He didn’t drink much…definitely less than usual…I don’t know why he acts like that.”

Andrey shoots Karen a uncomprehending glance and hugs you even tighter now: “I just missed her.”

You sigh silently and try to release his arms from you: “Andrey, I need to talk to Karen for a second, okay? Would you please sit down on the couch for a moment?”

At first, it seems like he might want to protest, but then he energetically plops down onto the nearby couch. In the next moment, he wraps his arms around your thighs, burying his face in the fabric of your t-shirt against your stomach, muttering something in Russian you don’t understand.

You blink in surprise before placing your hands on his shoulders – accepting the fact that he seems to be very clingy right now.

Karen leans against the commode next to the door, taking off his shoes but looking at you as you start to speak: “As I already texted you: I put David to bed at half past seven. He ate a bit but didn’t have much appetite.”, while speaking, your fingers automatically start playing with the tips of Andrey's hair. You tilt your head from one side to the other, “And…well, I don’t know…maybe David gets a cold or something? He was very sleepy the whole evening and got a bit cold?”, by now, your hand is running through Andrey's hair.

“Yeah, I’m afraid you’re right. I thought the same when he didn’t want to get up in the morning…well, we will see.”, Karen sighs loudly before he smiles at you, “Thank you for looking after David, Y/N.”

You return his smile and wave your hand in a dismissive gesture: “No need to thank me! He was really well-behaved - as always. And I even managed to finish my work, which I just need to submit tomorrow.”

Andrey murmurs softly, disapproving the fact that you stopped stroking his hair.

“Good good”, Karen nods down to Andrey, asking half-joking half-seriously: “Should I help you putting him to bed in return?”

You suppress a laugh: “No, I think we are fine…I text you if I need any help.”

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Against your assumption, it's quite easy to get Andrey out of Karen’s hotel room.

He has his fingers intertwined with yours, holding your hand as you wait for the elevator. Andrey's hotel room is just one floor down but leading him through the staircase in his condition seems unnecessarily risky to you.

The elevator doors are closing behind you, when Andrey squeezes your hand and beams at you: “Y/N, I love you!”

You chuckle softly and nod as you press the button for the sixth floor: “Yeah, you already said that 30 seconds ago and a minute before and before and before.”

Suddenly Andrey is standing right in front of you: “Yes…but I love you a lot, so I have to say it many many many times.”, he bends his head and covers your face with lots of little kisses.

“I see.”, you can’t help but start laughing while you stroke his left cheek with your hand.

With a soft ding, the elevator doors open on the lower floor, but Andrey doesn't move - a deep crease forms between Andrey's eyebrows as he furrows his brow: “Don’t you love me?”

You look at him with wide eyes, completely confused: “Of course I love you, why are you asking this?!”

“Because you didn’t say it back.”, he pouts, reminding you of a little puppy being denied a treat now.

You close your eyes for a second: “Andrey, I said it back the first five times.”

"Yes, but don't you love me the sixth time?"

“I love you more than I can put into words, okay?”

“Okay.” he nods, beaming again.

Luckly your hotel room is only a few steps away. You are searching in your handbag for the key card, which is a bit complicated because you can only use one hand since Andrey refuses to let go of your other hand.

The door unlocks with a soft click and while you are fumble for the light switch, Andrey starts speaking again: “Y/N, I lov-“

“Andrey!”

*** *** *** *** *** ***

You guide Andrey to your bedroom, decided to skip teeth brushing and all the other things since it’s already half past two and you are supposed to be at the airport at ten a.m..

Sleep is definitely more important now.

“Andrey, honey, can you please take off the clothes?”, you ask while throwing your handbag on the suitcase and unlocking your phone to set the alarm.

You are completely focused on your smartphone, so you don’t notice Andrey stepping in front of you. Suddenly you feel his hands fumbling at the buttons of your blouse.

You lift your head and stare at him: “What the hell are you doing?!”

“You asked me to take off the clothes!”, your boyfriend giggles while continuing to open the buttons – or rather tries to because his fingers are way too uncoordinated for it.

“No!”, you look at him with disbelief, “I asked you to take off YOUR clothes!”

“No, you just said ‘the clothes’”, his giggling turns into laughter.

“Fine, Andrey, honey, can you please take off YOUR clothes?”

“No.”, he replies giggling.

“No? Why not?”

He looks you deep in the eyes, his grin has something suggestive: “It’s much more fun when you do it.”

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a serious look: “Andrey, take off your clothes and go to bed!”

“No, you have to do it!”

“Andrey. Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”

“No, you have to do it!”

Your voice has a sharp undertone: “Andrey! It’s almost two a.m. Please we have go to bed, we have to get up in a few hours, I’m tired!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t want to be annoying!”, hesitantly he reaches for your hand, “Please don’t be angry with me!”, suddenly the puppy-expression is back on Andrey’s face.  

Your facial expression softens, and you give his hand a soft squeeze: “I’m not angry, Andrey. I’m just tired, okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods slowly before letting go of your hand and pulling the sweater over his head.

It took Andrey only three tries to open his belt and after another five minutes he’s finally lying next to you in bed.

Although it’s dark in the bedroom you can feel Andrey’s eyes on you.

You know what he is about to say something but this time you are faster: “Andrey, I love you.”

You move closer to him and put his head on his chest.

“I love you too, Y/N.”, you can almost hear his bright smile.

And a drunken Andrey is really special. And you love him.

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev

[kelloggsenthusiast]

I know your requests aren’t open cuz of school, cuz I relate. But when (and if) u are free, could u write smtg for andrey rublev, maybe smut?? Thank u and love u.

Could you break a heart, if I asked you? - ANDREY RUBLEV

Majorca was another type of beautiful in December. The weather was warm enough to go sailing by day and just about cold enough to warm up by cuddling at night. Not that Andrey minded, anyway.

This night was much like the other nights of our week long vacation, except for one minor detail. I could not sleep. I didn't know whether to attribute it to the nap I'd had that afternoon, or to the wetness between my legs. Whatever the case, i needed to sort out the latter.

Andrey had been doing an interview with some Spanish sports network, and he was currently on his way back. His work seemed to follow him even when he was deliberately trying to run away from it.

I shifted to lay on my back, legs bent at the knees and slightly ajar. I ran my hands up my body, pulling my nightshirt up as I went, imagining it was him. I imagine bis fingertips brushing against the underside of my breasts, moving upwards towards my nipples. I whimper pathetically as my other hand cups my soaking middle over my panties.

Pulling my panties aside, I bite the corner of my lip as my other hand plays with my erect nipples. I imagine it's his fingers instead of mine that were rubbing my clit, preparing my entrance for his- my fingers.

"Andrey," I moan helplessly, as I play with my breast inch my fingers intomy throbbing heat. Once I get accustomed to the intrusion, I begin to pump my fingers.

My eyes screw Shut as I feel a knot tighten in my lower stomach. I rub on my clit with my thumb, making me draw nearer and nearer to my release and just as I am about to come, my hand gets pinned above my head.

"honestly, malenkaya, I haven't been gone that long, have I?" Andrey whispers to me.

"i- please," I say, not sure what I'm begging for.

"you're so needy. Such a mess for me, yes?" He rasps. I nod, fully aware of his leg between mine, pressing against my throbbing heat.

I need him.

Involuntarily, I rock my hips against his thigh, leaving a trail of wetness on his pants. His eyes fully dilate and I know he's gone feral.

He trails kisses along my jaw as his free hand plays with my nipple. The pleasure he's granting me is mind blowing, but not enough.

"Andrey," I whimper "let me touch you."

His lips never disconnect from my neck as his large hand let's go of my small ones. I immediately begin to tug on his shirt, wanting to take it off him. He catches on and detaches from me and takes off his shirt and pants, which are now stained with my arousal. I see the outline of his cock through his white Calvin Kleins, and I know he is painfully hard.

He pulls me towards him by my thighs and his mouth immediately latches onto my breast and he begins to suck and bite me. I moan his name out loud, glad that nobody outside these walls can hear us.

His fingers deftly massage my folds, looking for my little nub, and one he finds it he abuses it. I try to close my legs around his hand but his other hand makes sure to keep my thighs apart.

He keeps his thumb pressed against my clit as his middle and ring fingers slide into my moist, warm sex.

"Andrey," I whimper as he pumps his long fingers in and out of me. My orgasm build shamelessly quickly, and i find my body jerking in the throes of an orgasm.

"you're so fucking perfect for me," he said as he fingered me through my orgasm. "So beautiful. I love you so much."

I only realised that I had been squeezing his biceps and I left crescent shaped marks in them when he shifted tho take his boxers off. He was violently aroused and ready to come at my second. I found myself slickening at the thought.

"do you want more?" He asked as he aligned himself with my entrance. I nod frantically, looking up at him doe-eyed.

"you know that's not how it works, so be a good girl and use your words," he rasped. The combination of his dirty words and the head of his cock pressed against my entrance sent me into another state.

"Yes, Andrey, please," I beg.

"so needy, he rasps as he kisses the nape of my neck.

Slowly, he enters me and the familiar stretch to accommodate follows suit.

The pleasure is immediate and intense.

He pulls out again, leaving me empty and wanting.

"please," I beg, almost in tears.

"such a needy girl," he says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear lovingly. I melt.

Without warning, his hand wraps around my neck and he thrusts into me fully. My eyes close involuntarily.

"open your eyes, malenkaya, I want to see them go hazy as I fuck you the way you like," he commands. My eyes immediately open and find his staring at me like I'm the only woman in the world.

His first thrusts are slow and careful, getting me used to his intrusion, but as time goes on, caution is thrown to the wind and he fucks me with reckless abandon. I can feel his other hand dig into my waist, adding another layer of pleasure. Soon, I am clenching against his girth, signalling that I am close.

"let go for me," he says, and that's all it takes for my orgasm to come crashing down on me like a ton of bricks. Not long after, he fills me with his hot seed with a groan.

""fuck," he whispers. "You're so precious. You did so well for me. I love you."

He kisses me on the lips as his grip around my neck loosens.

"let's get you cleaned and fed. Come on now malenkaya," he says before scooping me up in his arms.

I haven't written smut in like... Forever so I'm sorry if this was trash fr. But I need to practice

Sorry for posting late; I did warn you about my hectic schedule.

-sadie

[idksmtms]

guys. GUYS. Where are my tennis boys fics?? Why am I not being bombarded by Carlos Alcaraz fan fics rn??? Why am I not seeing cutesy head canons about Jannik Sinner being an amazing boyfriend?? Why is Andrey Rublev and his insane humour not all over my feed?? WHERE ARE MY TENNIS FANGIRLS ATTTTT????

[b0r3dtod3ath]

Tennis masterlist

Andrey Rublev:

♡ Andrey x F1driver!reader

♡ Random thought 1

♡ Cuddling

♡ Tennis lessons

♡ Jealousy, jealousy..

♡ The explorer

♡ Arguments

♡ sick!reader

♡ Silent treatment

♡ Ask 1

♡ Young love

Ben Shelton:

♡ Random thought 1

♡ Ask 1

♡ Ask 2

♡ Ask 3

♡ Ask 4

♡ Launch

♡ Romeo and Juliet

♡ "I just saw Ben kissing Y/N"

♡ Kiss Cam

♡ Couple Q&A

♡ Always with you 28.09

Requests

Navigation

Last update: September 19, 2024

[antadogoias]

I need people to write fanfics with tennis players (especially with my beloved Andrey Rublev). Like, I see so many people obsessed with F1 and I see so many fanfics about F1 boys. I need this from tennis fans.

[anneioe]

first post who dis?

[elliethetennisfan]

Andrey Rublev x f! reader

fluff

warnings; none

!!Not proofread!!

Comment what you think and if i should do more :)) (this is my first short story lol sorry if it’s bad)

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Andrey Rublev stepped onto the pristine grass courts of Wimbledon with determination etched on his face. The young Russian had tirelessly trained for this moment, yearning to etch his name into the annals of tennis history.

His path to the final was strewn with challenges, each match a testament to his skill and resilience. The championship match arrived, a clash of titans awaited. Rublev faced a seasoned opponent, their volleys echoing through the hallowed grounds. The final set was a battle of nerves, but Rublev’s tenacity shone bright as he claimed victory in a thrilling tiebreaker.

The crowd erupted in applause, chants of his name echoing across Centre Court. But amidst the jubilation, Rublev’s mind wandered to one person—his girlfriend, Y/N. She stood at the edge of the court, her eyes shimmering with pride and joy. She rushed to him as he stepped off the court, embracing him tightly, unable to contain her excitement.

Their embrace lingered, words unnecessary amidst the elation that enveloped them. Y/N’s support had been unwavering, a pillar of strength throughout his journey. With tears of joy streaming down her face, she whispered, “You did it, Andrey. You’re a Wimbledon champion.”

The evening was a whirlwind of celebrations. Amidst the popping champagne bottles and flashes of cameras, Y/N ensured Andrey stayed grounded. Her loving gaze never left him, a reminder of the genuine support that transcended the tennis triumph.

Days after the historic win, Andrey and Y/N found solace in a quaint café nestled in the heart of Wimbledon village. Away from the spotlight, they cherished the simple pleasure of each other’s company. Y/N, always his confidante, noticed a hint of pensiveness in Andrey’s eyes.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked, reaching out to hold his hand.

“I can’t shake off the feeling that this victory changes everything,” Andrey confessed. “Expectations, pressures—I fear losing what truly matters amidst the fame and success.”

Y/N squeezed his hand reassuringly. “You’re still the same person I fell in love with, Andrey. Nothing changes that. Let’s navigate this together, stay true to who you are.”

Her words eased the burden in his heart, a gentle reminder of the unwavering support she offered. Together, they embraced the challenges that came with Andrey’s newfound status as a Wimbledon champion.

Months flew by, tournaments came and went, but their bond remained unshakable. Y/N ensured Andrey stayed grounded, reminding him of the values that defined him beyond the tennis courts.

In the serene solitude of their home, Y/N surprised Andrey with a homemade dinner, a simple yet heartfelt gesture. As they sat across each other, relishing the warmth of the moment, Andrey gazed at Y/N with newfound admiration.

“You’re my champion, Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes reflecting gratitude. “Your unwavering support means more than any trophy.”

Touched by his words, Y/N leaned in, her eyes sparkling with love. “Andrey, you’ve always been a champion to me, with or without the titles. I’m just here to remind you of that.”

In that moment, amidst the quietude of their love, Andrey realized that his greatest victory wasn’t claimed on the courts of Wimbledon—it was the unwavering love and support of his girlfriend, Y/N, that made every triumph meaningful.

END

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well this just fed my delusions even more 😭 …. anyways hope you enjoyed !!

again, comment if u like it and ANY advice :)

if you want to give requests i only take them for tennis players (not dead ones though) as i don’t feel necessarily comfortable writing for them.

Please, please, please don’t reblog / repost on any platform without MY permission FIRST. i’ll post my socials soon x

have a good day/night :))

[imoonf1]

PROFILE !

• birth name Anastasia Ricci

• profession Singer, Composer, actress

• birthday June 27 2000

• age 23

• sign cancer

• sexuality straight

• mbti personality esfj

• hometown Milan, Italy

• nationality Italian-American

• height 5"7 , 170cm

• languages Italian, Spanish, english

LIFE !

Anastasia daughter of an American mother and Italian father, born in Milan Italy when his father was working as a model in that city.

Her first steps in her career were in modeling as a child and she was sure she would follow her father's career, until she heard Queen for the first time, at which point she asked for her first guitar

When she was 15, Anastasia's family moved to the United States and there she formed her first band with five members; thanks to this group little by little they gained fame until they were able to sign with a record company, but due to various internal problems the band splits up after six years together.

[rvblos]

Andrey Rublev is the hottest and I’m so grateful you write about him bc there is entirely too little tennis fanfic

i’m grateful for you guys !!! thank you sm !!💕

[game-set-canet]

hii! you could do a rublev x reader tennis player where he gets jealous of her while she talks to another tennis player, if you want you can modify the request and sorry if it got confusing, english is not my first language, i love your blog!!🤍

A step forward

Pairing: Andrey Rublev x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: i really had fun writing this imagine! i hope you like it, lovely anon! 💖💖 also: English isn’t my first language, so I’m very sorry for mistakes!

* Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

You know something is wrong when you saw Andrey pressing his lips together and narrowing his eyes in suspicion, but you don’t know what’s the reason. In your eyes everything was fine.

Andrey just finished an intense practise session with Grigor Dimitrov. He showed that he is in a good shape and ready for the next tournament.

You are in the middle of a conversation with the Bulgarian, so all you can do is give Andrey a questioning look, but your boyfriend doesn’t react to your nonverbal question and just stares at the two of you.

“I saw the paining you posted on Instagram this morning!”, Grigor beams at you while taking off his headband, “It’s very beautiful!”

Grigor's compliment catches you completely off guard, and you can’t help but blush: “Uhm…thank you…that’s very kind.”

You love painting and drawing, and Andrey encouraged you to publish some of them online. You set up a separate Instagram account and after only five days your page had A LOT of followers – even some tennis players started following it: Karen Khachanov, Dominc Thiem, Grigor Dimitrov, … Without Andrey you wouldn't have dared to publish it, you're too insecure about it. But Andrey is passionate about your drawings and paintings and has persuaded you to share them with the world.

The older one shakes his head and steps closer to you: “No, I’m serious! You are really talented! I especially love your pencil drawings!”, he sighs still grinning, “I wish I had any talents…” You are way too involved in your conversation to notice Andrey’s snort and the way he stares at Grigor coldly.

Instead you can’t help but blur out: “I mean, from what I've heard so far, you're a pretty good tennis player.”

Grigor blinks at you in surprise before he starts laughing as well: “What you have heard? You just saw me practise?!”

“Yeah…I’m sure you can do better.”

The two of you are now laughing at the top of your lungs. When Andrey introduced you to other tennis players, you couldn’t say a single word. You are a big tennis fan since you were a little kid – always watching matches with your father – and suddenly you are meeting all the players. The first you got to know was Karen, who was really friendly, polite and calm but you were so nervous before your meeting that you nearly hyperventilate. So joking with Grigor was a HUGE step and you are really proud of yourself in that moment.

Grigor turns around and nudges Andrey with his elbow: “Cheeky! Andrey, Y/N is very bold! Did you hear what she said to me?!”

Andrey doesn’t join you in your laughing, his voice is rather cold: “No, I didn’t hear what my girlfriend said to you.”

Something about his emphasis makes you pause your laughing: You have never ever heard this kind of undertone in Andrey’s voice. Your relationship is quite new, next Monday would be your 3-month-anniversary and you know you both have a lot to learn and discover about each other but that was completely new.

Grigor also notices that something is different now and clears his throat quietly, no one says anything.

“I gonna take a shower.”, Andrey doesn’t look at any of you, “See you tomorrow, Grigor! See you later at lunch, Y/N!”, he presses a quick kiss on your left cheek and storms off of the court before you could say a single word.

Fernando Vicente is standing next to the bench, packing the bags. You have a good relationship with Andrey’s coach – at the end of the day he was the one who introduced you to Andrey.

You bite your lip and walk over to him: “Fernando?”, you wait until he turns around, “Maybe it’s nothing but…but…do you…uhm…what’s up with Andrey?”

Ferando looks at you, looking completely surprised: “You don’t know?”

“No?”, you are feeling quite stupid because it’s seeming like it’s very obvious what is wrong with your boyfriend.

Suddenly you hear Andrey yell from outside the practise court: “FERNANDO!”

Now that’s an undertone you know: your boyfriend is annoyed and impatient. Fernando knows the undertone as well and hurries up collecting his things.

“He is jealous!”, is everything Fernando says before he quickly grabs the bags and almost jogs across the court to follow Andrey back to the main building.

Andrey has a short break after lunch, so you make your way back to your hotel room after eating with the whole team.

Your boyfriend was very quiet and so everything was a bit tensed. You take a deep breath and sit down next to Andrey on the big couch: “Andrey?”

You wait until he puts down the phone – although you can see that he feels nervous about what you might say: “Yeah?”

It’s not easy to find the right words, because on one hand you can’t imagine how Andrey could be jealous on someone – in your eyes he was the most wonderful human on this planet – but on the other hand you want to take his feelings and thoughts seriously.

It takes you a lot of courage to look at him when asking the next question: “This morning on the practise court, were you really jealous?”

Andrey bites his lip, while he nervously strokes through his hair: “Mhhh…maybe.”

“Why are you jealous on Grigor? You know, there is no need for that?”

He makes a dismissive gesture and shrugs his shoulders awkwardly: “He is very handsome, isn’t he?”

You can’t help but shake your head in disbelief and move closer to him: “Oh yes, he really is…”, you can’t help but grin, “But I know an ATP player who is even more handsome. Do you want to know who it is?”

Andrey gives you a quick look from the corner of his eyes, voice quiet: “Not really.”

“Too bad. I gonna tell you either way.”, you take his hand in yours, “It’s a Russian player…I think his name is Andrey Rublev. Have you ever heard of him?”

Andrey shoots you a half annoyed-half angry glance but the corners of his mouth lift because of your words.

“So, do you know him?”, you continue to play your little ‘game’. Your head skips a beat when a shy smile spreads across his face.

He rolls his eyes, but his smile is getting bigger and bigger: “Maybe…”

“Yeah, I think you do know him. You must know him…because he is really really handsome. The most handsome guy on the whole tour. And he is very funny, and caring…sometimes he is very stubborn as well but that’s okay.”

“And sometimes he is a little stupid because he gets jealous without any reason?”

You shake your head very quickly and look him straight in the eyes now: “No, you aren’t stupid for getting jealous! It’s okay…I understand it.”

You can see that Andrey is relieved about your words – mainly because you two talked about it. Andrey had problems thinking about this all midday.

“You know what’s funny?”, you finally start talking again and chuckle, “There was a tiny little moment during today’s practise session where I thought: Maybe I have to be jealous of Grigor because you two were so cute together…”

Andrey looks at you with big eyes, before he starts giggling and shakes his head: “No no no, I’ll always choose you! You’re way cuter than Grigor!”

He takes your face between his hands and kisses you softly.

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev

[game-set-canet]

Just wanted to say love your recent Carlos nothing is moreimportant than Wimbledon fluff was soooo good.

Could I request an Andrey one where he and the reader are forced to play mixed doubles by their coaches but the end up having a good time

But now we're stressed out

Pairing: Andrey Rublev x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: this imagine turned out way different than i intended but i hope you like it as much is i do 💕 also: English isn’t my first language, so I’m very sorry for mistakes!

* Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

“I’ve found the perfect double partner for you!”, your coach Albert smiles at you proudly.

You raise an eyebrow while you continue sipping at your morning coffee: “Who?”

You and your team were sitting in the eating room of the hotel, enjoying the breakfast buffet.

Albert sits down next to you and starts eating his muesli: “Andrey Rublev!”

“Andrey Rublev?”, you pull a face and shake your head, “Why?”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t remember a single time we have actually talked with each other.”

“Doesn’t matter!”, your coach smiles at you encouraging, “You’ll have plenty of time to talk before today’s practise session this afternoon!”

“Today?”, you put down your mug and frown, “But I have an interview in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, we will practise afterwards.” Albert looks really happy and actually pleased with everything he organised and decided.

You try to sound as neutral as possible but can’t hide the frustration: “I don’t want to play doubles with him. I just want to play with Jessica.”

“Pegula is injured, and Andrey is the right choice for your double partner. You will agree with me as soon as you spend some time with him on court.”

You roll your eyes: “Just because you are best friend with Fernando Vicente doesn’t mean Rublev and I have to be best friends as well.”, you finish your coffee and get up from the breakfast table, “Gotta go now, I have a photoshoot in 30 minutes.”

 “I’m your coach and I know what’s best for you!”, Albert tries to sound serious but everyone on the table could tell that he is joking.

“You sound like my father!”

“See you in the afternoon, daughter!”

You can still hear him laughing when you have already left the room.

Little do you know that Andrey and his coaches had a very similar conversation on the other side of the breakfast room.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Later this day you find yourself on the tennis court. Your coach is talking animatedly with Andrey's coach, every now and then one of the men laughs out loud. You tie your shoes while Andrey puts on his hair band - there is silence between you.

You sigh. It’s ridiculous that you don’t talk to each other but as far as you know, Andrey isn’t very good at small talk – just like you.

You clear your throat and play with the racket in your hands: “I was supposed to double with Jessica Pegula, but she is injured, you know?”

It takes a few moments before Andrey finally answers, voice low: “Yeah, same for me…I planned to double with Karen Khachanov.”

Without thinking twice you blur out: “Seems like both of us aren’t very happy with the decision of your coaches, huh?”

At first Andrey just looks at you with a strange expression, but then he starts grinning wryly and shrugs: “I guess.”

One hour later you have to admit that your coach might be right: Andrey is a great double partner. And that you complement each other quite well. And – and that’s something you will never say out loud – it’s actually great fun to practise with him.

At the end of the practise your coaches and the rest of your teams stand in a circle and your coach looks back and forth between Andrey and you: “So, what do you say? Do we have a mixed double pair?”

Andrey looks at you from the corner of his eyes, biting his lip as he waits for you to take the final decision.

You take a deep breath and nod slowly: “Yeah, I think this could work.”

“Great! Good practise! See you two tomorrow - same time, same court”, Andrey’s coach gives a thumbs-up, waves at everyone and turns to leave the court, “Let’s win this tournament!”

You turn to face Andrey and nod towards to his coach: “Uhm, does he really think we gonna win this tournament? As a new double pair? After one hour of practice?”

Andrey sighs deeply: “Yes, he does.”

“Is he always like that?”

“Yes, he is.”

“My condolence.”

The Russian starts laughing because of your words, and you join him shortly after.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

You just finished your practise session with Maria Sakkari and decided to spend some time in the gym, when someone stepped next to you and begun training on the ergometer on your right. You turn your head and see Andrey getting ready for his first cycling set – already with earphone in the ears. You smile a little and wave at him and he waved back. That was the greeting.

Fifteen minutes later you got bored with your training and your own music, so you stretch to tap Andrey on the left shoulder. You wait until he removed one of the earphones before you start speaking: “What are you listening to?”

Without a word, Andrey holds his phone out to you so that you can see the title of the song.

You stare at the display with big eyes, grab your phone and you're now holding it out for Andrey.

He blinks in surprise before he starts smiling: “So, we have the same taste in music? You like Twenty One Pilots?”, he quickly removes the second earphone.

You nod your head vigorously: “I love them! I’ve seen them live three times already!”

You have never seen Andrey so radiant as he exclaims: “Me too!”

“Oh, that’s so cool! What else do you listen to?”

“Linkin Park and Avicii…”

“Oh my god, me too!”

For the next 20 minutes you two were lost in a conversation about your favourite songs, your favourite albums and Andrey even started the “What is the most beautiful cover you can think of?” debate.  

*** *** *** *** *** ***

After only two more practice sessions it’s the day of your first match. You are waiting in the tunnel to be called up for the walk on court.

You shift your weight from one leg to the other: “Do you think we can win this match?”

Andrey bits his lip while fumbling with his headband: “No, no change at all.”

You spend a lot of time with Andrey during the last few days – on and off the court – and if you are honest: he is a really great guy. But sometimes he is way too pessimistic.

You chuckle a little and shake your head: “That’s the wrong answer, Rublev, try again!”

He rolls his eyes but grins: “Fine. I think we won’t be as bad as I – and everyone else - expect us to be.”

“Wow. You must be the hit at every party…”, your words drip with sarcasm.

“I’m, actually.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe that.”

“That’s because you have never seen me partying.”, Andrey turns his head to look at you, “A friend of mine is celebrating his birthday on Sunday in a club near our hotel…you should come too.”

You smile to yourself as you follow Andrey on the court.

Maybe you will accept his invitation.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Two and a half hours later you feel Andrey hugging you from behind. You just played the perfect stop for the match ball.

You really won your double match.

“We won it!”, you can’t stop beaming as you look at him, “We won it!”

“Yeah, we did. Like I said!”, he hangs an arm around your shoulders.

“You said that we won’t be as bad as you – and everyone else - expect us to be?!”

“Yes, and I’m right. Everyone expected us to lose but we won it, sooo…”, he grins at you.

You poke him in the side with your elbow: “My god, I can’t believe I actually like you and like spending time with you.”

Andrey looks a bit surprise because of your words and runs his hand through his hair with a smooth gesture: “You do?”

“Of course! I think we are a good team and-“, you hesitate and look him directly in the eyes, “And we have great fun, don’t we?”

“Yes, we have.”, he agrees and tightens the grip around your shoulder, “And? Will you join me and my friends on Sunday?”

“I’d love to.”, you smile at him.

He returns the smile and tilts the head: “I'm very happy to hear that.”

*** *** *** *** *** ***

One year later you two are at the exact same court playing doubles again.

“Who would have thought, hm?”, you lean against Andrey’s shoulder as you wait for your walk on court, “We’re still playing doubles together.”

The Russian sighs softly and adjusts his headband: “And I still don’t think we gonna win this match.”

“That’s ok.”, you smile at him, “Because I think we won’t be as bad as you – and everyone else - expect us to be.”

Lost in thought, you look out over the court, “Isn't it crazy how everything has changed since then?”

Andrey raises an eyebrow but the corners of his mouth twitch: “Are you getting sentimental now?”

“Excuse me for getting a bit emotional when coming back to the place where it all started and where I fell in love with my boyfriend.”, you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“Technically it all started in the club at the birthday party of my friend.”

“No, it actually started right here in this tunnel, where I kissed you after our final loss.”

Andrey steps closer to you and bends down, his face only centimetre aways from yours: “I say, we repeat this…”

“What?”, you reply teasingly, “Winning every double match but losing the final?”

“I meant our kiss.”

“I know.”

He chuckles softly before he slides his arms around your waist and kisses you.

You smile against his lips. Your coach was right back then: he found the right double partner for you – on the court and off the court.

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tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev

[game-set-canet]

hi!! i was wondering if you could write something about the reader comforting andrey over something? i think andrey needs a hug ngl. love you’re writing!! 🫶

A room without light

Pairing: Andrey Rublev x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: self-doubt

Author’s Note: sorry that it took me so so long to write this, i hope you like it 💕 also: English isn’t my first language, so I’m very sorry for mistakes!

* Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

The door closes with a quite click behind you. The hotel room is completely dark and you can’t see anything. You know your boyfriend is somewhere here – or at least you hope so.

“Andrey?”, you whisper while you take a few steps into the room, “Andrey, are you here?”

At first you don’t get an answer, but then you hear a soft hum on your left. You feel some of relief rushing over you: You found him. Finally.

After the end of the match and a quick, rather unpleasant press conference Andrey disappeared. None of his team nor you had an idea where he went. Usually you would head back to the hotel together and so no one expected Andrey to actually go back alone. But after searching for him for nearly 30 minutes and hundreds of unanswered text messages and phone calls, you decide to drive back to the hotel and prayed that he is there.

You hesitate for a moment before you whisper again: “Can I turn on the light?”

This time the answer comes immediately: “No!”

The moment you realised that Andrey was sitting alone in the dark you knew it was bad.

“Okay…”, you take a deep breath, “Where are you?”

“Couch.”

It breaks your heart how sad he sounds.

“Can I sit with you?”

“Yes.”

Slowly you make your way to the couch, carefully not to bump into any furniture. Finally, you feel the couch armrest, but when your hand reaches over the seating surface, the couch is empty.

“Andrey, where-?“

“Floor.”

Andrey wasn’t sitting on the couch but on the floor, leaning his back against it.

You sit down next to him and slide your arms around his upper body. He immediately leans into your hug and hides his face in the crook of your neck.

Nobody says a word. You just feel Andrey's breath against your skin.

You run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head: “We…we were worried when you suddenly disappeared.”, you don’t know if that’s the right moment to talk about his disappearing because you would have to talk about the reason for it and you know he doesn’t want to talk about his loss.

Andrey takes a deep breath, it’s hard to understand him: “I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Not really.”, suddenly he lets go of you and leans back against the couch, staring in the dark, “And I mean…nothing happened. I mean…I played a good tournament, didn’t I?”

You mirror his sitting position while you left hand searches for his left: “Yes, you played a good tournament.”

He takes your hand in his and gives it a soft squeeze: “I could be proud of myself, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, you could be proud of you.”, you take your clasped hands in your lap.

“Why am I not proud of myself then?”

You smile sadly: “Because you are too hard on yourself.”, your thumb gently strokes the back of his hand, “Because you always focus on the few little things that went wrong instead of concentrating on the big, positive picture.”, you snuggle closer to him and lean your head on his shoulder, “Because you are an overthinker.”

He leans his head against yours and closes his eyes: “My god, I hate it.”

You instinctively know that he actually meant to say 'myself' instead of ‘it’.

It breaks your heart to hear him talking like that.

“No, you don’t. It’s just very difficult sometimes.”, you press a quick kiss on the back of his hand and turn your head, although it’s dark in the room you can see his eyes now, “But all of that makes you the unique person you are.”, you raise one hand and place your hand on his left cheek, “Makes you the person I love with all my heart.”

“And yes, you can be proud of yourself! You played a really impressive tournament with very good tennis-”, you feel Andrey twitch beside you and know he wants to say something, but you continue talking, “and yes, you lost the quarterfinal but that’s okay!”

He shakes his head and sits up, you lose all contact except for the interlocked hands: “I’m not good enough! I lost this quarterfinal and the quarter final in Wimbledon…I didn’t even reach the quarterfinal during the French Open…and the quarterfinal of the Austrian Open, and-”

You interrupt him quickly: “Andrey! Andrey, look at me”, you wait until your boyfriend stops muttering and looks at you, “It’s okay! You played a really good tournament! And you played a really good season! You won your first ATP 1000-tournament this season and your level is very solid this season. You ARE good enough. You are better than just ‘good enough’.”

Andrey takes a deep breath, before he shakes his head and - at first, you think you misheard - but then he chuckled: “You’re making it quite hard to be sad for a long time, you know that?”, he pulls you closer to him.

It feels so so good to hear him laugh a little, to know that got a bit happier again. “Good.”, you smile.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Always.”

You close the distance between you and kiss him softly.

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tagging: @bluetackbaby@lxndonorris @fedalev

[game-set-canet]

heyyy, i was just hit with the concept of trying different hairstyles on andrey, since his hair is pretty long, like braiding and little ponytails and stuff and was hoping you could write a little something around that <3

mirror, mirror on the wall

Pairing: Andrey Rublev x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

Author’s Note: i had like 5 different ideas for this imagine and i hope you like the end version of it 💕 it was great fun to write it! 🤗 also: English isn’t my first language, so I’m very sorry for mistakes!

* Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

It was early in the morning, and you were standing in front of the mirror in your bathroom, suppressing a big yawn and next to you your boyfriend is brushing his teeth.

“Wha’ ar’ u thin’in’ ‘bou’?”, it was hard to understand Andrey’s question because of the toothbrush he had in his mouth.

“What?”, you frown and look at him confused.

Andrey pulls a face and spits out the rest of the toothpaste: “I asked: What are you thinking about? You were staring at your reflection for almost two minutes now.”

You tilt your head from one side to another while you play with your hair-ends: “I'm thinking about how I'm going to do my hair today.”

Your boyfriend raises a brow: “Is this such a difficult question?”

“Yes, it is.”, you narrow your eyes and turn back to look at yourself in the mirror, “Do I leave my hair down? Do I wear a ponytail? Do I braid the hair? Do I pin them up with a hair clip? Do I put my hair up in a simple half updo?”

“I…I didn’t realise there are so many different possibilities to wear one’s hair…”, Andrey bites his lip and buries his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.

“That’s because your hair was too short to do anything with it.”

“Was too short?”, he runs his right hand through his hair, tugging on it as he looks at himself through the mirror.

“Yeah, it got quite long, don’t you think?”

“Mhm…”, Andrey doesn’t really answer, instead he still stares at his hair.

You feel a bit out of the practice of braiding, and you have to concentrate to get your hair in shape. After some minutes you notice Andrey is watching you with fascination out of the corner of your eye.

As you finished your braiding, Andrey steps closer to you and gently strokes your braided hair: “You look really lovely.”

“Thank you!”, you smile happily and lean against him. Andrey wraps his arms around you and presses a soft kiss on your forehead.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Throughout the day, Andrey gently strokes your hair again and again - carefully so as not to destroy the braid but definitely fascinated by it. It's a simple gesture, but you have butterflies in your stomach. Andrey is a very loving boyfriend who pays attention to every little thing and really always makes you feel special.

You two were lying on the couch in the evening, both of you scrolling through messages on your phones when Andrey broke the silence: “Remember this morning? When you said my hair is getting quite long?”

You look up from the message of your dad and look at him: “Yes, why?”

It takes Andrey some moments to continue speaking: “Do you…mhm…”, his fingers are playing with the corner of his phone case.

You chuckle of his cryptic half-question and put away your mobile phone: “’Do I’ what?”

Andrey doesn’t answer but his eyes wander from your face up to your braided hair and you understand what he means.

“Do you want to know if your hair long enough for me to braid it?”

Your boyfriend shrugs with a shy smile on the face.

“We can try it, if you want.”

Andrey slowly nods: “I think I’d like that.”

“I love the idea!”, you beam at him and jump up of the couch, “I’ll get the comb, hairbrush and the hair ties!”

When you come back from the bathroom, Andrey took off his sweater, leaving him in t-shirt and sweatpants and standing in the middle of the living room: “Where do you want me?”

The first thought that pops into your head is a lewd, X-rated response, but you finally decide on the adult answer and nod over to the coach: “Sit on the floor please...you're too tall for me to work well otherwise.” Andrey immediately follows your instructions and sits down on the fluffy carpet in front of the couch, while you sit on the couch so you can bend over him.

“Do you want to watch a movie or turn on some music? I think it will take me a while to get used to braiding with short hair and I can’t remember when I last braid someone else’s hair.”

“Music is good!”, your boyfriend fumbles for his phone and opens Spotify, starting one of your shared playlists.

You slowly and carefully start brushing his hair, his hair feels soft and silky between your fingers. You love to play with Andrey's hair - especially when you're lying on the couch or in bed watching a movie together.

And you know Andrey loves it too. Before important matches, you often lie in bed together in the evening on the day before, Andrey's head rests on your chest or stomach and you stroke his hair to relax and calm him.

Andrey has his eyes closed and enjoys the feeling of your soft fingers in his hair.

But right before you start with braiding, he suddenly turns around: “Sorry, just one moment!”, he stands up and disappears into the bedroom.

You look after him curiously and can't suppress a stunned sound when you see him come back with the medium-sized wall mirror in his hand. “What do we need it for?” you want to know with a grin.

“I want to watch you braid my hair.”

“Why?"

Andrey grins crookedly, but doesn't say anything, but sits back down on the floor in front of you, placing the mirror so he can see you through the reflection.

It takes you a while to get used to brain with his hair but after some minutes it gets easier. You decide to do his hair in three Dutch braids – or at least you try it.

“I could watch you for hours.”, Andrey’s voice is quiet, almost a whisper. He has a soft smile on his face.

You can’t help but blush: “Yeah, maybe that’s necessary because I don’t know if I’m able to do the hairstyle I wanted.”

Your eyes meet through the reflection of the mirror.

Several minutes later you are finished and quite satisfied with the result.

“What do you say?”

Andrey tilts his head from one side to another, leaning forward to try and catch a look at every angle: “Well, what do you say?”

“Honestly?”, you slide down on the floor next to him while you run your fingers over the braids, “I think you look really hot.”

Your eyes wander back and forth between the braids and his eyes, while your arms wrap around his neck.

“Really?”

“Yes, you look really hot.” “Thank god we tried out this hairstyle!”, Andrey pulls you closer at him and kisses you passionately.

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tagging: @bluetackbaby @lxndonorris @fedalev

[antadogoias]

so many Andrey Rublev fanfics, I'm in heaven?