#andrei svechnikov

[swayhughes]

canes You asked, they answered 🤝

[pyotrkochetkov]

that’s pookie

[fallinallincurls]

okay shut up!! i love keely and andrei together! the moment they met was unique, the smut omg?? insane and their chemistry is off the charts. i can’t get enough and i’m so excited for more!

So Tragic and Rare

"Taste Your Silhouette" (pt. 11)

a/n: the first full fic of this universe! and I can reveal to you all that every fic is going to be told from Andrei's POV. I grew attached to the idea that you don't really know who Keely is and are forced to learn about her through outsider observations/opinions, her interactions with Andrei, and of course, her music and lyrics. anyway, here's the story of their first meeting!! It's wild, it's a bit messy, but it also is a whole lot of fun - if I do say so myself.

word count: 9.9k warnings: Andrei being awkwardly endearing, me basically rewriting last seasons All-Star game and smut! [oral (f receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, and a handjob]. masterlist

There were many things an NHL player could do over All-Star Break. A majority of players chose to fly to a tropical location, enjoying the warmth and sunshine in the middle of February and take a moment to relax before the season kicked up again.

But not Andrei Svechnikov. At least, not this year.

Instead, he was sitting on one of the many benches lined up in the middle of Scotiabank Arena in Toronto, watching the lights flash around him, listening to the crowd milling about in the stands. While he awaits the start of the NHL All-Star Draft, clad in his Canes jersey, his feet kicking gently.

Let it not be confused that he was ungrateful. Sure, it was colder in Toronto than it was in Raliegh and definitely colder than it was in any of the numerous beaches he was sure his teammates were currently on. But, no matter how much of him wished he could join them in their vacation, he took pride in representing Carolina at the All-Star Game. And he wouldn’t deny that the title of All-Star sent a bolt of cocky confidence through his body.

So, yes, while he was sitting in rink-side instead of poolside, he had never been happier. This was his place. This was where he belonged.

The amplified music cuts through his reverie, his gaze now moving towards the stage where the hosts of the evening stood. He listens to their welcomes and the explanation of how the draft would work, before the music build and the introductions of team captains begin.

The music shifts with each introduction and after Team Matthews is announced, the sound of a recognizable bassline pricks at his ears. He knew the melody from practice, the song often pulsating through the locker room speakers thanks to Seth Jarvis. The hosts call the names of captain Nathan MacKinnon and assistant captain Cale Makar – names that deserve their own cheer – but all he can focus on is the dark blonde hair of the other person walking up to the podium next to them.

“And the celebrity captain: Boston singer and songwriter, you’ll see her as our headline performer on Saturday, give it up for Keely Halloran!”

The cheers flow through the stadium – not as many as Toronto-based Justin Bieber received but that was to be expected. Andrei swears that he hears some boos as well, his eyebrows furrowing at the sound. He remembered Jarvy mentioning some prior drama in her career, back when he info-dumped about his favorite artist one night over dinner, but it seemed ridiculous to Andrei that people would boo her for that.

Perhaps their vocal dislike was based off her being a Boston native and therefore probably a Bruins fan. That made more sense to him.

He redirects his gaze back to Keely, standing on the stage in her own yellow All-Star jersey, talking animatedly to Cale and Nathan.

She was really pretty.

Jarvy didn’t explicitly mention her looks that but Andrei should’ve known. Yes, Seth liked her music but it would be idiotic to think that there wasn’t some attraction woven into his admiration.

But she was really truly beautiful, the spotlight shining down on her. She seemed so at ease, under the lights, in front of the crowd, and Andrei supposes it came with the territory. She made her living on the stage and even though this was a much different circumstance than she was probably used to, it probably didn’t phase her at all.

The draft starts and Andrei can’t take his eyes off of Keely. There is a need flowing through him, a desperate desire to be on her team. Although, if asked, he wouldn’t be able to concisely say why.

It could’ve been the fact that her team was captained by Nathan MacKinnon and Cale Makar – two powerhouse players that anyone would be lucky to play with. It could’ve been because he promised Jarvy that he’d get a picture or autograph for him and being on Keely’s team would make that task easier to accomplish. Maybe it was as simple as the fact that he found her attractive.

Whatever the reason, he wanted to be hers. Her player – on her team, that is.

He watches as her, Nathan, and Cale look at their options, talking each pick over. He sees her disappointed face and hears a small sound of disappointment leave her lips when David Pastranak gets chosen by Team McDavid, confirming his assumption that she was a Boston fan. He listens to her voice, cheerfully greeting and shaking the hand of each player that skates up: Crosby, Georgiev, Kaprisov. All he can do is wait and hope for his name to be called – hopefully by her.

When Robert Thomas gets chosen by team McDavid, the host jumps back to Keely, ready to announce the next pick of Team MacKinnon.

“Alright Keely, your team is up. How much power do you have in these draft choices?”

“I’d like to think I have some but they’re the professionals so I’m trusting them,” Keely laughs, tossing her hair back. “We were looking at all the names here, and I’m going with the guys on this one. We’re going to select… Andrei Svechnikov.”

His name on her lips sounds like music to his ears and he lifts himself off the bench, skating over towards the third of the small podiums lining the stage. He can faintly hear the voice of the announcer praising his game but that all seems irrelevant to the sight of those blue eyes trained on him.

He skates up, first clapping Nathan on the back, before his eyes connect with Keely. She has that smile on her face, a camera-ready smile but one that also seemed entirely genuine.

“Hey,” she says to him, her voice still lifting with the edge of her laughter as she holds out her hand to him. He accepts it, shaking it gently before moving to Cale, taking the All-Star jersey from his hands.

It isn’t until he is settled down on the MacKinnon bench, lined up next to his new teammates, do his eyes return to Keely and notices her staring at him. And it is only then does he realize he never said a word, not even a hello, to her.

A strange feeling of embarrassment runs through him, his eyes darting down, pretending to be absorbed in unfolding the yellow jersey. God, she must’ve thought he was an asshole or something. What a great first impression. He throws the material over his head and only afterward does he allow himself to look back up towards the podium where Keely stood.

He continues to watch and listen to her aid in the building of Team MacKinnon. And every time she speaks, he notices more things about her, aspects the draw him in even deeper.

He noticed her playfulness when Jeremy Swayman was selected by Cale, laughing at the incredulous “alright?” that escaped Keely’s lips, clearly not agreeing with the defenseman’s choice of adjective concerning the goalie.

Andrei’s laughter soured quickly, feeling a small twinge of jealousy thrum through him when Jeremy skated over and shook Keely’s hand, the rockstar clearly overjoyed that he was selected. It was an odd thing to be jealous about, he realized, and he shook off the feeling, focusing back to the rest of the draft.

He noticed her welcoming warmth when she selected Elias Lindholm, newest member of the Boston Bruins, traded from Vancouver just before the All-Star game.

And when there were only four players left and each of the leadership teams came up onto the main stage, he listened intently when he heard her name fall from the mouth of one of the hosts.

“I wanted to talk to Keely Halloran for a moment here. You have a big performance coming up on Saturday. How do you feel?”

“I’m so excited,” she replies, her words and her smile seeming nothing short of genuine. “Growing up in Boston and growing up a Bruins fan – dangerous thing to admit in Toronto, I know, but – it really made me fall in love with hockey. My dad is coming in tomorrow and he’s just super excited.”

“Well, since you mentioned being a Bruins fan, are you happy you got a few Bruins on your team?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, kind of disappointed we didn’t get the full set with Pasta but I like the team we made up and I know that at least me, Jeremy, and Elias will bring some of that energy and power that I always feel in TD Garden.”

“Well, we’ll be feeling the energy and power during your performance on Saturday, I’m sure,” the host says, turning away without acknowledging the laughter and confirmation that falls from Keely’s lips.

The draft wraps up after the final selection, each team being filled. A cheer goes up from the crowd as the rosters are announced, followed by a reminder of the skills competition tomorrow and the All-Star game the day after that. After the final cheer, the bright lights of the stadium come back up, the production crews and behind the scenes personnel milling about. One of them stands in front of the Team MacKinnon bench, a quick explanation falling from their lips.

“Alright, guys, we’re gonna take a team photo for social media and then you are all free to go, sound good?”

Andrei nods his head, standing up to be positioned for picture. His eyes scan the stadium before landing on Keely again, slowly walking down the steps of the stage, trailing behind Cale and Nathan. He sees her slow shuffling across the ice, her eyes trained on her feet. A jolt of confidence plus a need to redeem himself from their first interaction runs through his body and without hesitation, he skates away from the team bench, towards her. With a small hiss of his skates, he pauses beside her, holding out his arm.

“Would you like help?” he asks. He can feel his heartbeat stutter in his chest when she looks up at him, her bright blue eyes connected with his brown ones.

“Is it that obvious that I’m not the strongest at walking on ice?” she laughs, still shuffling across the surface.

“It’s amazing you haven’t fallen yet,” Andrei replies. One of Keely’s eyebrows pops up and Andrei realizes that his words sounded more than a little patronizing. “I mean, in those shoes,” he elaborates, gesturing down to her heels, trying to mitigate whatever damage he may have inflicted.

“Yeah, not the smartest decision,” she replies. “I would love some help. Falling on my face wouldn’t be very good publicity for me.”

Andrei nods, relaxing in her easy-going attitude, re-extending his arm towards her. She takes it, her hand curling around his bicep. Andrei starts to slowly move back toward the group of yellow jerseys, attempting to keep a steady pace, focusing more on his skating in this moment than he had in ages.

The two of them reach the bench and Keely murmurs a soft thank you. His only reply is a nod, skating behind the seat and smiling for the camera. As soon as the photo is snapped, Andrei is ready to immediately return to Keely’s side, offering his help again. But he is beaten to it by the true Canadian gentleman Sidney Crosby.

With a sigh, he watches as she walks off with Sid and Nate before he skates over to the tunnel, ready to head back to the hotel. He still wasn’t sure if he was going to go down to the hotel bar or stay in his room, getting some necessary sleep before tomorrow. But his decision is made for him when he spies Keely glance back over her shoulder, locked gaze with him and sending a soft smile in his direction.

He would do anything if it meant that she would look at him that way again.

~*~*~*~

The hotel bar was crowded, filled with players, their significant others, and a few members of the media, eager to get every snippet of content they could.

Andrei knew it might have been best for him to stay upstairs, what with the skills competition coming up tomorrow – a competition that Andrei had a spot in. But it was the All-Star game and he was the only Carolina Hurricane here. He should represent his team as much as he could, in as many places as he could; let his face be seen and captured by the cameras around. He promised himself only a beer or two before leaving and he was making good on that promise. Although, he would admit that he was distracted looking for one person in particular.

It wasn’t until he was at the bar, ready to grab his second beer did his eyes finally locate the now familiar dark blonde hair of Keely Halloran.

She was sitting a few seats away from him, her back against the wooden bar-top as she talked with Nathan, Cale, Sidney, and Mitch Marner, her laughter bouncing through the air, cutting through the smooth jazz echoing through the speakers. She’s nursing some form of cocktail – Andrei can’t tell what – and intently listening as each person talks, seemingly interjecting with her own additions and obviously some humor considering the chuckles that fall from the men surrounding her.

He wanted go over there, join the conversation and insert himself into the circle, but a small part of him said to hold off. He didn’t want to overwhelm Keely with too many people, too many stories. She seemed connected to Nathan and Cale considering they were the two people that she had most likely interacted with the most. He didn’t want to force her to entertain an even larger group of almost complete strangers, which is exactly what he was.

Instead, he strikes up a casual conversation with the bartender, with every person that walks up next to him at the bar. He bides his time, his brown eyes occasionally darting over towards Keely, feeling his heartrate rise as the group surrounding her dwindles from four, to three, to two. And then she is alone.

Andrei takes a deep breath and another swig of his beer, willing whatever courage the amber liquid could provide to flow through his body, before picking up the bottle and walking over.

She is absorbed in her phone, texting someone, laughing gently at the words on the screen. The sight of her smile makes Andrei falter for a moment, the thought of her texting a boyfriend flashing in his brain. However, that voice is silenced when Keely looks up from her cell, her blue eyes connecting with his – seemingly aware of his presence – and the smile that was on her face does not fade. In fact, it seems to shine brighter.

That is the last bit of encouragement that Andrei needs to take those final steps, sliding his large body onto the adjacent chair and turning towards Keely.

“Hey again,” he says, his voice a little breathless and still a little uncertain.

“Ah, there’s my prince charming,” Keely smiles, looking up at him through her darkened eyelashes. The combination of her words and her stare has Andrei faltering once more, his own eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Prince charming?”

“For helping me across the ice, of course,” she lightly explains, her lips wrapping around the straw of her drink.

A light chuckle falls from Andrei’s lips as he tries to brush off his confusion, attempting to copy the bold and confident attitude that the woman sitting across from him displayed.

“Right, of course. Well, I guess Crosby – I mean, Sidney – would also be your prince charming.”

Keely hums, her head moving to glance behind her, towards Sidney, now talking with someone else a few paces away. Andrei takes Keely’s momentary distraction as an opportunity to let his gaze rake down.

With her head turned, he could see that the baseball cap perched backwards on her head was a Boston Celtics cap, her city loyalty on full display. The leather jacket that had previously been thrown over her shoulders was now draped over the back of the chair, revealing the rest of her all-black ensemble. The corset top that highlighted her chest and waist, a highlight that most other men would’ve been eyeing shamelessly. Andrei would’ve joined in but his eyes had drifted lower, to the skirt/short combo that seemingly had a built-in buckled garter, stretching across her upper thigh.

A gentle clearing of a throat causes Andrei’s eyes to snap back up, his face flushing when he sees Keely’s eyes glued back to him.

“He is gentleman, that’s for sure,” Keely speaks, continuing the prior conversation, blissfully not responding to Andrei’s blatant stare. That is, until her own eyes shamelessly rake up and down his body. “But Sid’s not nearly attractive enough to be my prince charming.”

While being caught red-handed threw him off-guard, Keely outright giving him some of the most seductive bedroom eyes that Andrei had seen in his life threw him entirely off-kilter.

“What?” he said, not being able to stop his bewilderment at – what seemed like – the sudden turn of events. Keely’s laughter makes his cheeks flush again, her leaning back in her chair, her legs stretching out causing Andrei’s eyes to dart back to that damnable garter.

“What’s the matter all-star? Never had a girl flirt with you?”

“N-no. I’ve had lots,” Andrei stutters out before his brain registers how bad his response sounded. “I-I mean… um…”

His fumbled words were once again cutoff with a gentle laugh from Keely, her body leaning towards him again. This time, her expression is soft, a slight smile on her face that looked amused but not at all condescending.

“You aren’t very good at this, are you?”

“Not when it’s a celebrity, like you. And not when I feel like I’ve made a mistake every time I’ve opened my mouth,” Andrei confesses, his own lips quirking in a soft grin.

“That’s actually one of the things I like,” Keely replies, silencing Andrei’s fears but bringing forth more confusion. The question is clearly painted on his face because Keely’s explanation continues. “Do you know how many men try to act all suave and basically lie through their teeth to get close to me? It’s nice to see something genuine – even if you may not have intended it.”

“Glad to know I haven’t messed up that bad.”

“Not at all.”

The initial awkwardness evaporates as fast as mist in the morning sun, the conversation between Keely and Andrei now flowing seamlessly. She asks about his life, details which he gladly offered up and he asks hers, the details she gave a little vaguer. But Andrei found that he didn’t really care.

He knew enough about who she was – a celebrity that probably had every aspect of her life splashed on front pages and over social media, whether she agreed to it or not. He was more than willing to let her tell him what she wanted to. Regardless of what she decided to tell him, he sat, enraptured. Her stories only made him admire her more: her passion, her drive, her unapologetic attitude concerning everything.

“I wish I could be that confident,” he says in reply to her return to the public eye.

“Andrei Svechnikov, all-star hockey player, wishes that he could be more confident?”

“I guess, more off the ice. I know who I am as a hockey player but when I don’t have skates on, I feel… not as bold.”

“Maybe I can help.”

Andrei’s eyebrows once again jump up in a question, every word that falls from this woman’s mouth intriguing him more.

“I’ll ask you some questions, and you respond with the honest truth,” she explains, her eyes sparkling with a sense of mischief that Andrei wanted to uncover.

After a moment of pondering, he responds with a small nod. His acceptance makes Keely smile and she leans back in her chair again, her blue irises staring him down.

“What’s your favorite lunch?”

“Really?” Andrei asks, her first question catching him off-guard once again – another tick mark to add to the mystery of the woman in front of him.

“Have to keep you on your toes.”

“Chicken and pasta.”

“Dogs or cats?”

“Dogs.”

“Favorite thing to do in your free time?”

“Fishing.”

“Person you trust the most?”

“My brother, Evgeni.”

“Girlfriend?”

The question draws Andrei’s attention, his brown eyes connecting with Keely’s blue. He can see the seriousness of the question within them. And, even deeper, the flicking of mistrust lurking in the aquamarine pools. That spark, that glimmer, hits Andrei squarely in the chest. He knew very little about Keely, not even the tabloid version, but that hesitation… it told him that she had been hurt, deeply. And in response, a fire flickered within him, one that vowed to make sure he never gave her a reason to distrust him.

“I don’t have one,” he replies, his voice steady and serious, hoping that the intensity of his feelings was matched by his voice.

Judging by how Keely relaxed back in her chair, it seems as if he got his wish.

“Why’d you come over here, Andrei?”

It was another challenge, another chance for him to be bold and tell the absolute truth. And this time, he didn’t wait for the best moment, didn’t dance around the words. Instead, he took a deep breath, met her gaze, and spoke the truth he was thinking the minute she stepped onto the stage at Scotiabank Arena.

“I think you’re beautiful. And… I’d like to spend a night with you.”

A slow smile twists across Keely’s face, taking in the sight of him sitting in front of her; maybe still a little uncertain but at least solid in his convictions.

“There you go. Confidence,” she says, the words slow and seductive.

There is a brief pause, the air between them thrumming with electricity before Keely breaks the spell, sighing and stretching her arms over her head before glancing down at her empty glass.

“Well, I was planning on going to bed once this drink was gone and it is. So, I guess I’ll head out,” she explains, her voice breezy and casual. She slides off the chair, grabbing her jacket and tossing it over her shoulders.

Andrei watches, a flash of confusion fliting through him as she reaches into her pocket, sliding out a thin card – presumably a credit card. However, that thought is disproved when she boldly takes a hold of his wrist, turning his hand palm-side up and placing the cool plastic into his hand.

“Top floor, room 15C. Don’t keep me waiting too long.” 

Those statements and the cherry of her perfume was what she left him with as she swiftly turns and waltzes out of the hotel bar. Andrei’s eyes stay on her until she is out of sight and only then does he glance down at the card placed in his hand.

Keely had slipped him a copy of her hotel keycard.

The invitation is clear. She was offering the key to her room for him to use if he desired – if he truly wanted the things he said he did. But it was also another challenge for him to be bold and honest and maybe a bit brash.

The decision was entirely his.

And he wasn’t going to say no. He was going to see Keely. He was going to take full advantage of the night and of the opportunity she presented him.

He just needed to wait, just long enough as to not draw suspicion. He was under more of a microscope up here in Toronto than in Raleigh. But Keely had eyes on her no matter where she went. He wasn’t about to bring more drama into her life.

So, for the second time that night, he lingers. He chats to the people around him, give some quotes to the media, does as much as he can to make it seem like this was a normal night during an All-Star Weekend. He pretends that he can’t feel the weight of the keycard in his pocket and the ticking of the time.

Finally, he deems it long enough and, after paying for his drinks and giving the bartender a healthy tip, he extricates himself from the hotel bar. His sneakers barely make a sound as he crosses the plush carpet of the lobby, taking a direct route to the elevator. He is thankful that no one stops him, thankful that the elevator doors seem to open as soon as he presses the up button and thankful that he is alone in the space. Andrei hits the button emblazoned with 15 and watches the numbers on the LED screen rise, flying past the fourth floor (his room) towards his true destination.

The soft ding of the elevator sounds, the doors sliding open with a whoosh and he steps out. There is only one hallway stretching out in front of him, two doors on either side. Andrei steps out slowly, eyes locating the plaques with the room numbers next to each door.

His mind repeats the number that Keely gave him like a mantra, passing one door and then the next before stopping in front of room 15C. He stands in front of the entrance, the wood looking exactly like the doors around him, looking exactly like the door to his own room. But inside…

A myriad of images sprung into Andrei’s head, fantasies of what was waiting for him, each more intoxicating than the last. If there was any hesitation still lingering in his body, it was burned away but the hot flash of need and desire that surged through him. He slips the plain black keycard from his pocket, holding it over the doorknob until the light above turns from red to green. The door handle, cool in his hand, turns and he steps in.

And the sight that awaits him makes him stop in his tracks.

Every image that he had conjured up in his mind was nothing compared to what was now in front of his eyes: Keely, lying in bed, her hair splayed over the pillows, wearing nothing but an oversized band shirt, the hem scrunched up around her waist, and her hands between her open thighs.

Her soft moans hit his ears and Andrei cannot help but stare as her elegant fingers trace over her folds, glistening in the low lamplight of the bedroom. He watches the way her back arches when she presses the pads of her fingers against her clit, a whine emanating from her throat as she gently rubs the bundle of nerves before her hands slips back down. It is her middle and marriage fingers that plunge into her center, her head lolling to the side as she lets out a satisfied sigh.

Andrei feels like he is in a trance, helpless to do anything but let the scene in front of him unfold. His eyes trail up Keely’s body to connect to her face, taking in the bliss so clearly displayed. It isn’t until that moment do her eyelids flutter open, those electrifying blue irises connecting to his frame still lingering in the doorway. A cheeky smile tugs at her lips, even while her hands never cease their movements.

“Are you going to join me or just stand there with the door wide open?”

Her words snap Andrei out of whatever reverie he was in, his body moving at a speed that even he can’t comprehend. The door is kicked shut behind him, the force of it making the wood vibrate on its hinges. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice or even care. Of course he didn’t care. How could he worry about anything else besides the woman in front of him?

There is no hesitation in his body, no uncertainty any more. His hands move to tear his grey t-shirt away from his body, feeling his confidence only grow at the soft moan that falls from Keely’s mouth, her eyes unabashedly raking down his muscular frame. The only response he gives is a small grin, before kicking off his shoe and sinking down to his knees, his eyes now directly focused on the soaked space between her thighs.

He drinks in the sight of her fingers still buried in her folds, like something out of one of his wet dreams or a porno made just for him. He watches as she slips the slender digits from her core, her soft skin glistening with her arousal, acting like a silver webbing between her fingers as she runs them across her cunt.

“Do you need more of an invitation?” Her voice echoes through the room, the words twinged with a tease but also with a desperation that makes Andrei’s dick twitch in his jeans. “You kept me waiting long enough. Gonna make me wait some more?”

She was right, of course. While watching her was surely something he never thought he would experience, it wasn’t as if she was on a screen or miles away, untouchable. She was right there, almost begging for him. Who was he to refuse a superstar?

His body lifts, strong hands wrapping around each ankle, guiding her legs over his broad shoulders. Andrei can hear the whine that vibrates from her throat, her hips lifting as if to entice him further. Her knees hook over the muscle of his shoulders and he allows himself the chance to press a kiss onto the supple skin of her inner thighs.

The heat that emanates from her stokes the fire that burns within him and he slowly descends, wanting to savor every second even though he can hear the way Keely whines, clearly impatient. Finally, finally, he lets his lips connect to her drenched center.

There is nothing in the world that could stop the moan that rumbles from his chest as his tongue makes contact with her slick, the sweetness that pours from her core tasting as heavenly as ambrosia. He hears her satisfied sigh from above, feels one of her hands tangle into this hair as a gentle encouragement for more – a silent request he is all too willing to oblige.

His tongue moves, tracing every crevice, lapping every bit of nectar that floods his tastebuds. He wanted to devour her, wanted to be able to taste her even when this weekend was long over. His mouth rises slowly, finding her clit nestled at the apex of her folds and wraps his lips around it, suckling. The way her fingers tighten in his hair, her hips bucking up is all the confirmation he needs that he’s doing something right and he is more than happy to continue.

One of the hands that had been keeping a tight grip on her upper thigh moves to join his mouth, retracing the places that his tongue had previously been. His fingers circle her entrance, collecting the wetness practically pouring from her before one of them plunges into her core.

Their mutual moan fills the room and Andrei still can’t believe that this isn’t a fantasy. But judging from the way her cunt is clenching around his finger, he knows it’s not. She is warm and wet and real and all those things has Andrei pumping his wrist, coaxing even more of those intoxicating sounds from her mouth.

He’s slow at first, wanting to give her time and as much pleasure as he could. But when Keely raises her hips to meet his hand, he reads her desperation with ease and slides another finger inside. He works her open, each languid thrust met with more of those desperate noises, each buck of her hips just pulling him deeper. His tongue never ceases its movements against her clit, each suckle and flick releasing more of her sweet arousal which he greedily laps up like it was water and he was dying of thirst. His brown eyes watch her, registering which moves makes her head fall back, exposing the pale column of her throat, and which has her body trembling. He wanted to memorize everything – the way she sounds, the way she feels, the way she tastes.

It was only when he gently curled his fingers does her already strangled moans turn staccato gasps, her pussy fluttering around the thick digits. The smile that twists on Andrei’s lips is devilish as he moves again, his lips wrapping around her clit and suckling in time with the movement within her. It only takes three instances of the dual combination for Keely’s orgasm to hit, her body trembling with the force of it, her mouth wide in an almost silent moan.

The sensation of it, of her squeezing his fingers, of her release flooding his mouth makes Andrei groan in kind, his tongue busily working to lap up every drop, not wanting any to go to waste. It is only when he is satisfied with his work does he allow his fingers to slip from her core. His eyes dart up to connect with hers, eyelids heavy with lust as she stares down at him.

“Well,” she says, her voice breathless. “You might not know how to talk to a celebrity but you sure know how to make her come.”

The chuckle that rumbles from his chest at her words melds with her own breathless giggle. Andrei lets a moment pass before he presses his lips against her inner thighs, sliding her legs off from their perch on his shoulders and lifting his body upwards until his frame is hovering over the entirety of her.

“Want to do it again,” he murmurs.

“Confidence,” she replies, echoing her words from earlier, her eyes flashing with the same amount of desire as he was sure was reflected in his own pupils. A sly grin twists on her face. “I like how it looks on you.”

He wants to kiss her. God, does he want to kiss her. That desire had been brewing since he first saw her, but now; with the flush of her cheeks, her hair creating a halo on the pillowcases, the slight sheen of sweat on her skin, her eyes looking up at him… he needed to kiss her.

But before he could even think of leaning down to press his lips against hers, Keely once again surprises him by hooking a leg over his hip, knocking one of his hands out from under him and using his falling momentum to her advantage, successfully flipping him over so it was his back that was now pressed against the hotel sheets.

A giggle falls from Keely at the bewildered expression on Andrei’s face and he gladly lets his initial shock morph into insane wonder at the woman he met only hours ago. Any words that he thought about uttering, any praise that may have fallen from his lips was silenced as Keely peels the cotton of her oversized shirt away from her body, exposing the entirety of her to him.

She was always beautiful but now, sitting naked above him, she was drop-dead gorgeous. She had a great body, that was obvious, but he was sure she knew what she was doing when she got the bejeweled tattoo that stretched across her abdomen and curved around her chest. The green jewels truly seem to glitter and only highlight her breasts even more, enticing him to reach towards her, his fingers tracing the design before moving over the soft skin of her breasts, teasing over the pebbled nipples. She arches to his touch, her hips moving against him and he can’t stifle the moan that falls from him at the friction of her soaked core against his still clothed cock.

“How many times do I have to tell you to fuck me, Andrei?” she questions from above him, her hips grinding against him again. He wants to give in right then and there, her body feeling so good against his already and he wanted to find out how good she would feel around him. But he also wanted her to voice her own desire for him. Not as a hot random stranger that she chose out of a dozen, but him alone.

“Maybe just one more,” he replies, his hands falling from her chest and tracing down the curves of her body. “Beg for it.”

“Oh,” Keely laughs, clearly taken aback by his demand. But that surprised huff turns into a softer more desperate gasp when Andrei grips her hips and deliberately grinds her core against his, the more intense friction against her still sensitive core causing her to shudder.  

“Oh fuck,” she quietly curses, her hands planting onto Andrei’s muscular chest as she attempts to drag herself against him again. But this time, his strong hands hold her in place, denying her. Her blue eyes dart up to him, the pure lust displayed there making his own resolve falter. Until he hears what he had been waiting for fall from her lips.

“Please.”

That single syllable word is all Andrei needs.

His hands fall from Keely’s hips, darting between her thighs to hurriedly undo his jeans. Keely’s soft hands join his, twisting underneath the waistband of his pants and boxers and aiding him in shoving them down his legs, his hard cock bobbing up. Andrei tries not to preen as Keely’s tongue flicks over her lips at the sight before her gaze flits up to meet his again.

There are no words spoken between them, nothing verbally exchanged. Instead, Keely’s palms return to Andrei’s chest, steadying herself before lowering her body. Andrei grips himself, squeezing the base gently, willing himself to not finish the very moment she sinks onto him. His free hand returns to her hip, guiding her down, running the head over her folds a couple of times before aligning with her center.

The sensation of her heat wrapping around his length causes Andrei’s head to fall back, a guttural groan leaving his chest as she sinks lower. The feeling must be just as pleasurable to Keely, her own whispered curses hitting his eardrums as she shifts until their hips are flush against each other.

There is a stillness; no movement but the rise and fall of their chests, no sound but their heavy breathing. Andrei wills his eyes open and reconnects his gaze with Keely. The sight of her above him is a vision, her looking more like an angel appearing in a dream than something real. Hell, part of him still wasn’t 100% sure he wasn’t dreaming.

But when Keely’s hips move, grinding against him, any doubt is erased from his brain. Even in his darkest deepest fantasies, he could never imagine something this good.

It is a dance, a sensual tango. Her hands are poised on his chest and his hands tight against her hips as she moves her core against him, each press of her along his length as sinful as the last. Andrei wants to keep his eyes open, wants to memorize every miniscule detail: the way her hair falls in her face, the roll of her hips, the shadows that are cast across her skin. But it is hard to do anything but lay back and let her ride him, let her take whatever she wanted from him, anything and everything that he could give.

Keely shifts slightly, a gasp falling from her and Andrei picks up on her reaction, thrusting his hips upward to meet the same spot. Another gasp sounds from her and is about to turn into a moan when Andrei sees her bite her lip, stifling the sound even as she desperately chases the sensation once again. One of Andrei’s hands lifts to cup her jaw. The feeling of his calloused skin against her porcelain cheek causes her eyes to open, gazing down at him.

His thumb stretches across her jawline, the tip of it pressing underneath her lip, gently pulling the flesh from between her teeth.

“Want to hear you,” he groans. “Want to hear the pretty sounds you make.”

She laughs, the sound wavering a little as their hips never stop moving against each other.

“Have to save my voice so you and everyone else can hear how pretty I sing,” she attempts to explain.

“You have a whole day. Want to hear how pretty you sound just for me.”

“Just for you?”

The question isn’t meant to be cruel and yet, Andrei can feel the bite of it. He knows, intrinsically, that he is not the only man that Keely has allowed into her bed and – considering their circumstances – he certainly wouldn’t be the last. But he lets that sting fuel him, drive him.

Initially, he wanted to kiss her. Now, he wanted to make sure that she knew no one else could make her feel the way he does.

The hand that was on her cheek descends again, taking time to carefully caress every ridge and dip of her body, paying close attention to the places that make her shudder and her movements on top of him falter. Slowly, almost painstakingly so, his hand returns to her hip, holding her tight and stopping her movements. He gets a small whine from her in response, a whimper that makes his lips curl in a smirk.

“I want to hear how good its feels,” Andrei says, his voice thick and low. “How good I make you feel.”

Keely is about to laugh again – that breathless teasing giggle that Andrei had come to know – but the sound is cut-off as Andrei thrusts his hips up, his thumb stretching to press against her clit. She moans, unabashedly now, the noises she makes crystal clear and as melodic as any song that he had ever heard. Andrei continues his pace and his movements within and against her, his eyes never leaving her, committing the sight into memory, something to get off to once this weekend was over and she was back to being a celebrity on his phone screen and a voice through his radio speakers.

He watches the way her body trembles, feels her nails dig into the muscle of his chest, and hears those beautiful noises falling from her mouth become shaky. He doesn’t stop, not until she is clenching around him, a jumble of curses and moans and – even more exquisitely – the sound of his name falling from her mouth as her orgasm rushes through her. It is maddening, the feeling of her pussy fluttering around him as she comes down.

It takes every modicum of Andrei’s self-control not to come undone as well, his hands gripping her hips so tightly he worries there would be bruises the next day. He can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes deeply, his own eyes closed with a focus that he had only ever displayed on the ice. It is Keely’s soft laugh and the feeling of her lips pressing against his jawline that has him returning to the moment. The feeling of her kissing his skin blissfully distracts him from the sensation of her lifting off him, his still rigid cock slapping against his equally hard stomach.

He groans, his own desperation getting the better of him as his hips lift to chase her but she stills his movements with the grip of her soft hand wrapping around him. It isn’t nearly as good as her cunt but he is too far gone to complain.

“Want me to take care of this for you, all-star?” she whispers into his ear, delivering a slow languid stroke to emphasize her words. Her movements bring forth a moan from his own mouth, as well as a desperate nod of his head. He didn’t care how or what she had planned, he just needed her.

“Now it’s your turn to show me how pretty you sound,” Keely continues, her lips descending to kiss his jawline. And when she starts to slowly pump her hand, Andrei complies.

Even if he wanted to, he could not stop the moans that fell from him, the muttered Russian curses, the way his hips jumped up to meet her hand. She truly had him wrapped around her finger and he didn’t care. All he cared about was her: the feeling of her body pressed against his side, the touch of her hand against his cock, the sensation of her lips sucking hickeys onto his throat.

It is a twist of her hand coupled with a nip of her teeth against his skin that finally has his own orgasm hit, his body stilling as his cum paints his abdomen in thick creamy lines. Keely doesn’t stop her hand until he is spent, a soft hiss coming from his lips at the sensitivity.

She releases his cock, her fingers trailing up his body, collecting his release. Andrei opens his eyes just in time to see her seductively run her fingers over her lips before plunging them into her mouth, moaning at the taste of him on her tongue. He feels his dick twitch with renewed interest, now needing to know how those plush lips would look wrapped around him.

Releasing her fingers with a wet pop, Keely smiles at him, either blissfully unaware of the power she held or happy to wield it as casually as possible. Whatever it may be, she curls back into his side, her head coming to nestle on his shoulder as her legs tangle around his. He stays there with her, his own hand running up and down her side gently, content to bask in the golden glow of the moment.

Eventually, the sensation of dried sweat and slick become uncomfortable and Andrei moves, carefully departing from Keely. He didn’t want to, of course. If it was up to him, he would’ve quit his job to fly around on private jets and be backstage at all her shows if it meant spending more nights with her in his arms. But that wasn’t what this was. He knew that.

“Headed out?” Keely asks, her voice drowsy with a combination of sleep and exhaustion.

“Need to get back to my room. Get some sleep for tomorrow,” he explains.

“Probably for the best,” come her reply, understanding the situation as well as he did. “But you are welcome to use my shower before you leave.”

In his mind, he knew that he would be able to ride the elevator down to his floor in mild discomfort and clean up in the privacy of his own room. But something made him nod in agreement. Perhaps he wanted to spend more time in Keely’s presence, maybe the offer allowed him to look more into her world. Whatever the reason, he walks around the bed to the bathroom and switches on the lights.

He is greeted with the exact same layout as his own bathroom but with some slight differences, things that were distinctively Keely.

The makeup bag spilled open on the counter, the red candy bar shaped perfume bottle, the small ceramic dish that held a necklace and a ring with two hands holding a crowned heart, and a candle that was still burning, releasing the smell of eucalyptus and lavender in the air.

Andrei smiles at the small glimpses of her personality before stepping into the shower, letting the water wash off the remnants of their tryst. He debates using the body wash sitting in the green bottle but defaults to the complimentary bar of soap, cleaning himself before turning off the water.

After drying his skin with the plush bath towel and blowing out the candle on the counter, he returns to the bedroom to find Keely curled up under the white covers, her breath slow and steady as she sleeps. Silently, Andrei moves around the room, picking up his clothes and returning them to his frame. He sits down at the desk to tie his shoes and once again debates whether he should scribble his number down on the pad of paper perched next to him.

He wants to be bold and confident, like Keely liked, but without her gentle smile encouraging him, everything felt like he was walking a tightrope and one wrong misstep could ruin it all. So, he plays it safe. The only thing that he allows himself to indulge a kiss pressed against her temple before he slips out of her hotel room.

~*~*~*~*~

When Andrei walks into the locker room on Saturday, a sigh of relief whooshes from him when he sees Keely, decked out in the yellow of her own All-Star jersey, standing next to Nathan’s stall, listening to him and Sidney talk, a smile on her face.

It had been a little over twenty-four hours since he had left her hotel room and this was the first time he saw her again. She wasn’t around during the Skills Competition the day prior which Andrei found odd considering that the other celebrity captains were wandering around the ice. He had soothed the panicked part of his brain with the rational of her hanging with her family or rehearsing for her performance, instead of immediately assuming it was because of him. But he wouldn’t be certain until he could talk to her again.

He glances in her direction, hoping to catch her eye. Her head eventually turns towards him, their eyes meeting and once again, Andrei’s heart skips a beat when she smiles at him, her eyes bright. It feels like a sign that they would both be able to get through today without it being terribly awkward.

He tries to focus, let his body go through the muscle memory of his pre-game ritual – no different than he does every Carolina Hurricanes game. Occasionally, he still glances in Keely’s direction, watches her mill around and take a few pictures for media, noticing that he hasn’t heard her voice. The answer as to why hits his ear a few moments later – vocal rest for her performance – and a part of him deflates at not being able to hear her cheer or celebrate.

Eventually, everyone makes it to the bench and the first round of the All-Star game starts, Team MacKinnon against Team McDavid. Andrei lets himself be lost in the familiar feeling of the ice gliding beneath his skates, the music of the puck being passed from stick to stick. He only momentarily gets distracted by the smell of a familiar cherry perfume behind him, causing images – images that were entirely inappropriate to be thinking about during a hockey game – to pop into his head. He manages to pull them out of his brain but Team MacKinnon were unable to pull out the win, losing in a shootout to Team McDavid.

He doesn’t let the loss shake him too bad, knowing that it doesn’t mean anything except the inability to win more money – something that he feels he has too much of already. Instead, he lets himself strip back down to the sweatpants and branded hoodie combo that he arrived in, content to sit and watch for the rest of the day.

After Team Matthews overtakes Team Hughes in another shootout, Andrei finds himself wandering onto the ice, a stage now set up in the center and a smaller one to the left. He finds some of the benches that were previously used for the draft pressed against the penalty boxes and takes a seat, joined shortly by some other players like Marner, Swayman, the Hughes brothers, and Wilson.

The lights dim, the cheer from the crowd going up as the bassline emanates from the speakers and Andrei watches as dancers file out before being followed by Keely herself. Gone is the bright yellow of her All-Star jersey, now replaced with a black bodysuit that shimmers under the spotlight, highlighting every curve.

If the world faded when she stepped out onto the stage, it all but vanished completely when she started singing. Andrei leans in, listening, intent on picking up every detail that he could. And what he hears makes his heart ache.

It isn’t the first song that catches his attention (although he would agree that he had never met a girl like her before) but the last three songs that cleared some lingering questions in his mind.

You have more pieces of me than the desert has sand & I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand.

You were my everything and all that you did was make me fucking sad.

I’ll play the villain in your life – whatever helps you sleep at night.

He didn’t follow celebrity gossip, didn’t make note social media headlines, but here, right now, it felt like Keely herself was telling him everything: a story of heartbreak and betrayal. It felt as if he could see her for exactly who she was; someone who had every pain inflicted upon them and still carried those feelings with them, despite the front she presented to the world.

Andrei feels like he is cheering the loudest of them all when she strikes her final pose, the spotlights shining down. She smiles to the crowd, giving a small bow and a wave to the stadium around her before turning and heading back down the locker room tunnel.

It takes Andrei a few minutes of wandering through the tunnels of Scotiabank before he finds Keely again, this time leaning against the wall in a nice shirt and casual jeans, a glass of white wine perched in one hand and her phone in the other.

“Hey,” he says, walking those final few paces towards her. The sound of his voice causes her head to lift, a smile appearing on her lips when her eyes land on him.

“Hey, yourself.”

“I, um… I wanted to say that you were really good. Performing, I mean.”

“Oh. So, I wasn’t good Thursday night?” Keely teases, taking another casual sip of her wine, no doubt relishing the sight of Andrei’s cheeks turning pink as those images return easily to his mind.

“No, you were… you were fucking fantastic that night,” he says, watching as Keely’s own smile grows.

The two of them stand there in silence, the space between them feeling as much of a contradiction as their own connection. What did it mean to know someone in such an intimate way but also be so detached from each other in every other possible aspect? The rockstar and the hockey player: a pairing that no one would have guessed.

Andrei hated it – hated the distance between them that would only widen after this weekend. But he didn’t want to lose Keely, even though all logic stated that he should forget about their tryst and not pursue her further. But his desire to have her close overwhelmed his rational mind, which had his next words falling from his lips.

“Listen,” he begins, his voice still a tad uncertain. “I’m not sure what your life looks like right now – I know mine is only going to get busier – but I really enjoyed being with you. Not just in bed but in general. And if you want to connect later, I’ll be available.”

Andrei waits, studying her face and every miniscule expression that passes over her. He doesn’t pry, doesn’t backtrack, doesn’t do anything except let the silence linger between them as Keely thinks. He watches as her blue eyes lift to meet his and for the first time since he spoke to her, he can see a vulnerability glimmer in those sapphire pools, the sight of it making his heart ache.

“Would you wait for me, Andrei?” she asks, her voice quiet and he can feel the weight of that question rest on his shoulders. How many badly had people hurt her? How deep was the betrayal that she experienced that made her this uncertain? Whatever the answer was to those questions, he knew the resounding answer to hers.

“I would.”

Keely’s lips lift in a small smile, clearly able to hear the conviction in his voice.

“Confidence,” she whispers, echoing the words from that first night once again. She takes a sip of her wine and Andrei watches as her demeanor shifts back into the savvy rockstar that he had known. “Well, then… I might take you up on that offer.”

He doesn’t say anything, just smiles brightly. He is content to give her a nod, turning away from her and ready to walk back down the tunnel. But then a thought nags at the back of his brain, yelling at him in the same tone as an annoyingly familiar voice. Andrei spins and returns to stand in front of Keely, an adorably amused but somewhat confused expression on her face.

“I have one last favor to ask you,” he says, reaching into his pocket and fishing out his phone. “Could you make a video for my teammate Seth? He’s a huge fan.”

The sound of her laughter echoing down the hallway at his request makes Andrei smile, slightly chuckling with her.

“Not what I thought you would say but of course. Anything for a fan,” she replies, the bright lilt in her voice matching her laughter. “Seth? That’s his name?”

Andrei nods and holds his phone up towards her, watching through the screen as she places her wine glass down on the ground and turn towards him. A small nod of her head gives him the go-head to start the recording.

“Hi Seth. I heard from someone here at the All-Star game that you were a big fan. It’s wild to think that my music is listened to by professional hockey players and who knows, maybe I have you to thank for getting me to Toronto. Maybe next All-Star game, I’ll see you here.”

Keely ends the video with a wink and even a cheeky kiss blown in the cameras direction before waving goodbye. Andrei stops the recording, saving it to his photos and he feels Keely slide up next to him. His fingers hit the play button and they both watch the video back. Keely hums softly and he looks down at her, an embarrassed grimace on her face.

“That last bit might have been too much,” she explains and Andrei drags the play-bar back, watching the video of Keely’s wink and kiss. And looking at it again, he can see that her eyes are not trained at the camera lens but at the cameraman – him. It makes his heartbeat increase at the sight of her so boldly flirting with him but he also understands her hesitation. Seth would surely notice and ask questions and Andrei did not want… whatever was happening between them, to leak before they even had a chance to discover what it all meant.

“Do you think you could edit it out?”

“Sure,” he replies.  

Andrei is quick to nod his head, even faster to open the editor and cut that small section out of the video. He pauses over the save button, the app asking if he wants to save the new video separately or replace the old one with it. His eyes flick back to Keely, her own blue irises sparkling up at him, seeing his hesitation.

“Mind if I keep that last bit for myself?” he questions. The proposal brings another smile onto Keely’s face and he can almost see the quiet laughter in her eyes.

“Not at all. It was meant for you anyway.”

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[hanaaishi]

A crosscheck from Svechnikov is called foreplay around these parts.

[v6quewrlds]

❝ last to know, a. svechnikov. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: it's always nice to hear about the canes' team bonding activities. but when andrei comes home with a november challenge, you know the only solution is to kill seth jarvis.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: yay first svechy fic. hope y'all know that's my baby boy. it's me and google translate against the world <3 this is day one of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, jarvy's an idiot, andrei gets a little grumpy, google translated russian, andrei calls reader kisa (kitten), moya lyubov (my love), and malishka (baby), bratty!reader, dom!svech at the end, choking, oral (fem receiving), fingering, squirting.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: andrei svechnikov x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 5.3k.

The evening air was cool, hinting at the early arrival of winter. Inside the cozy apartment, the smell of onions and garlic sizzling in olive oil filled the kitchen. You wore a simple pair of black leggings and an oversized t-shirt as you chopped vegetables for the stir-fry. Your hands moved with precision, each chop echoing in the quiet space. Andrei stood towering over the stove, carefully tossing the chicken in the makeshift wok. His muscular arms flexed with the motion, and you couldn’t help but sneak glances at his broad back.

Andrei caught you staring and winked playfully. "What are you looking at, kisa?" he asked in his deep, accented voice. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance, but a smirk danced on your lips.

"Just making sure you don’t burn our dinner," you quipped, tossing a pepper slice in his direction. He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. The two of you had been living together for six months now, and your playful back-and-forth banter was as much a part of your daily routine as your career obligations.

"You know I'm better in kitchen than on ice," he said, a smug smile playing on his lips.

You scoffed, throwing a handful of sliced mushrooms into the pan with a dramatic flair. "Right, is that why I've had to clean burnt pans more times in the last six months than I have my entire life?"

Andrei shrugged, his smile growing wider. "You know I'm just teasing, moya lyubov." He reached over and pinched your side gently, making you squeal and swat his hand away. The stress of the day had dissipated, replaced by the warmth of your easy banter. The two of you worked in a harmonious dance, you adding the final touches to the meal while Andrei plated your dinner. You sat down at the small kitchen table, the TV playing highlights from the latest Hurricanes game in the background.

As you ate, your conversation turned to the upcoming team events. Andrei mentioned the Thanksgiving gathering at the captain’s place at the end of the month with a hint of excitement in his voice. "You could not go last year but you will love it, kisa. It's going to be so much fun."

You nodded, swirling your fork through the noodles on your plate. "I’m looking forward to it. But some of the girls were talking about a challenge you guys are doing?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Andrei's face grew slightly red as he took a sip of his water, avoiding eye contact.

"Is just something...stupid," he mumbled. "Some of the guys on the team are trying to not...you know."

Your eyes narrowed, your curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, 'not'?"

Andrei sighed, setting down his fork. "They're doing a thing called 'No Nut November'. It's where you...try, um, not to climax for the whole month."

Your mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?" you exclaimed. "Why on earth would you agree to that?"

Andrei shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. "Just ispytaniye, you know? The guys talked to me," he said, his English faltering slightly in his bashfulness. "But it is okay. We have fun."

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You knew Andrei had a competitive streak, but this was ridiculous. "So, what, you're just going to ignore me for a whole month for a challenge?" you said, trying to keep the annoyance from your voice.

Andrei looked at you with those puppy dog eyes you had come to love. "Nyet, kisa, it's not like that. We can still...you know, do everything else."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Everything else?" you questioned. "So, you want to be abstinent for a month because of some dumb bet?"

Andrei looked at you sheepishly. "It is not a bet," he clarified. "Team bonding. Like when we go dry January."

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. "Yeah, but you hate those challenges," you pointed out. "What's the deal with this one?"

Andrei sighed, his shoulders dropping.

"Honey, tell me who put you up to this," you pressed, your voice filled with a mix of amusement and annoyance.

He took a deep breath before admitting, "Jarvy." Your eyes widened with understanding. You were going to kill Seth Jarvis.

You put down your fork and leaned back in your chair. "Why didn't you tell me it was him? Is he bothering you?" you said, your voice filled with the mock concern of a mother tending to her distressed toddler.

Andrei's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red as he groaned at your tone. "He just was talking, and I thought...I could do it," he said, his voice trailing off.

You studied him for a moment, your expression unreadable. "Alright, fine. You can do your 'No Nut November' thing," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "But you're not getting off that easy."

Andrei looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Your smirk grew more mischievous. "I mean, I'll make sure you really feel like you're participating in this challenge," you said, your voice low and filled with a hint of laughter. Andrei's eyes widened slightly as you pushed your chair back and stood up from the table.

For the next few days, you made it your personal mission to test Andrei's resolve. You wore outfits that you knew would drive him wild, your short shorts and tight tops leaving little to the imagination. You would strut around your apartment, hips swaying with each step, eyes sparkling with amusement at his obvious discomfort. Andrei tried to resist, his eyes darting away whenever you caught him looking, but you could see his jaw clench and his fists tighten.

One evening, after a particularly tiring day of teasing, you lay on the couch with a knowing smirk, your legs crossed and your fingers tracing circles on your bare thigh. Andrei sat in the chair opposite you, his eyes glued to the TV but his mind clearly elsewhere. He cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension that hung in the air like a thick fog.

"Kisa, why do you do this to me?" he murmured, his voice deep with frustration.

Your smirk grew wider as you shrugged. "Just trying to make sure you're really committed to this whole 'challenge,'" you said, emphasizing the last word. You leaned back, your fingers continuing their torturous dance. Andrei's eyes followed the movement, his own eyes darkening with desire.

The tension between the two of you grew palpable. Andrei shifted in his chair, his discomfort clear. "You're being mean, kisa," he said, his voice thick. You sat up, placing your hand on his knee.

"I know, I know," you said, your voice softening with faux understanding. "But think of the prize at the end. You'll have earned it." Andrei groaned, his eyes pleading.

You stood up, your hand sliding over his thigh. "Come on, baby, let's go to bed." You could feel his resistance wavering, and you reveled in the power you held over him.

Andrei's eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, you thought you had won. But then he leaned back and took a deep breath, his Russian stubbornness shining through. "No, kisa. I finish what I start."

Your smirk faded, replaced with a look of determination. "Fine," you said, your voice a purr. "But I won’t make this easy for you, Andrei."

The next two weeks were a battle of wills. Every move you made was calculated to push Andrei to his breaking point. You would lean over to grab something, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage. You would sit on his lap while you watched movies, your body warm and inviting against his. And each time he'd try to make a move, you would push him away, reminding him of his commitment to the challenge. Andrei's patience grew thinner with every passing day, his eyes darkening with need whenever you were near.

The day of the Thanksgiving gathering finally arrived. Andrei was on edge, his usual stoic, confident demeanor cracking under the pressure of his raging hormones. The two of you arrived at Jordan Staal’s home, the aroma of roasting turkey and sweet potatoes greeting all the guests at the door. You looked stunning in a carefully selected silk dress, your confidence deepening when you saw the other wives and girlfriends' reactions to your attire. You knew Andrei would struggle all night, and you were more than ready to watch him squirm.

As you mingled, the conversation inevitably turned to No Nut November. The other wives and girlfriends laughed at the idea, sharing stories of their partners' failed attempts. Andrei's teammates exchanged knowing glances, and you felt a twinge of annoyance that you were the butt of their private joke. But you held your tongue, smiling sweetly as you listened to their banter.

“You look good, girl.” Gianna, one of the player’s girlfriends, whispered to you with a knowing smile as she passed by with a tray of drinks. The room was filled with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of silverware as everyone stood around in anticipation of the dinner.

“I can’t believe he’s still holding out on you, sweetie. Most of the guys gave up by week two,” one of the wives named Melissa said with a wink.

You couldn’t help but feel a smug sense of pride at the thought of Andrei’s tortured self-control. You took a sip of your wine, watching as he talked with Jordan and his wife, Heather, his eyes occasionally straying to you. You knew he was desperate for release, and you were enjoying every second of his torment.

As the evening progressed, Andrei's touches grew bolder, his hands lingering a little longer on your waist or brushing against your thigh. You would look up at him with a knowing smile, watching him bite back his desire. When you were alone in the kitchen for a brief moment, Andrei leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Kisa, I need you. Let's go home."

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you leaned back into his touch, your voice a seductive murmur. "But the party's just getting started," you teased. "You're not giving up now, are you?"

Andrei's grip tightened on the countertop, his knuckles white. "I can't...not with you looking so sexy," he admitted, his accent thickening with his arousal. Taking a brief moment to take in his surroundings, Andrei bent down to whisper his plea in Russian into your ear, hoping that the language barrier would shield your conversation from prying eyes and ears.

“Da, ya ponimayu, Andrei,” you whispered back your understanding in what little Russian you knew off the top of your head, your voice dripping with sweetness. “But you need to be stronger than this. Think of the victory you’ll feel when you win the challenge.”

You stepped back, placing the platter of food you had been holding onto the counter with a gentle clink, leaving his hand hovering in the air between you. Andrei’s frustration was palpable, but you felt a thrill of power knowing you had him right where you wanted him.

The dinner was a blur of flavors and forced small talk as Andrei’s eyes followed you around the room. You could feel his gaze on you, his need for you almost tangible. You were enjoying your victory, watching him squirm, his self-control hanging by a thread. As the night went on, the tension grew thicker than the gravy on the turkey.

The two of you found yourselves standing at the edge of the living room, the TV playing a football game neither of you was particularly interested in. Seth Jarvis strolled over, a smug grin plastered on his face. "How's it going, buddy?" he asked, slapping Andrei on the back.

Andrei gritted his teeth. "It's...going," he said through clenched teeth.

Jarvy chuckled. "You know, I didn't think you had it in you. We thought you’d tap out by week one." He winked at you, drawing an eye roll out of you. Andrei's jaw tightened, but before he could say anything, Jarvy cut in again. “We actually bet on it. I lost like a hundred bucks, Svechy. You’re a beast, man."

Andrei's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'we'? Who else is not doing this?"

Jarvy's smirk grew wider. "Well, most of us stopped after the first week. We decided to test how long it would take for you to catch on," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Your mouth fell open as you threw your head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the room. Andrei's face went red with a mix of embarrassment and anger.

"You asshole," he groaned, visibly annoyed but trying to hold back his self-deprecating laughter. "Why did you not tell me?"

Jarvy shrugged, his grin unabated. "It's not fun if you know, right?" He clapped Andrei on the shoulder before walking away, leaving the Russian standing in stunned silence.

You couldn't help but continue to laugh, the tension of the past few weeks finally breaking. You stepped closer to Andrei, your eyes gleaming with mirth. "So, you've been suffering for nothing?"

Andrei's eyes searched yours, a mix of relief and annoyance swirling in their depths. "It will be worth it," he murmured, pulling you into a tight embrace. You could feel his heart racing against your chest, and you knew that the challenge had pushed him to his limits.

“Maybe this will be a good thing after all,” you whispered into Andrei’s ear, your voice filled with amusement as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You felt his body relax slightly against you, his grip on you tightening for a brief moment before loosening.

Andrei leaned down and kissed your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Ya budu zhdat’,” he murmured in Russian, his voice thick with need. You giggled, feeling his hard chest against yours.

“You’ll have to wait a little longer, my love,” you said, pulling away with a mischievous smile.

Andrei sighed, his grip on your hips loosening slightly. “You are cruel, kisa,” he said, his eyes still dark with desire. You knew you had won this round, but you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. You pushed yourself off the wall, stalking back to the group of wives and girlfriends.

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter and food. The tension between you and Andrei had dissipated slightly, replaced with a newfound excitement. As the guests began to leave, Andrei’s hand found yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gentle rhythm that sent shivers down your spine. You knew what was coming, and you were more than ready.

As you two said your goodbyes to Heather and Jordan, Andrei's grip tightened, pulling you closer. His eyes were dark with desire, and you felt your body responding, your core heating with anticipation. You walked to the car in silence, the crunch of gravel beneath your feet the only sound between the two of you.

The drive home was tense, the air in the car thick with unspoken words. Andrei's eyes never left the road, but you could feel his need for you in every tense line of his body. You leaned over and placed your hand on his thigh, your thumb stroking the fabric of his dress pants. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t move away.

When you arrived at your apartment, Andrei practically dragged you inside, the door slamming shut behind you. He slammed you against the door, his mouth claiming yours in a fiery kiss that left you both gasping for air. You moaned, your hands fisting his hair as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Andrei’s hands roamed your body, desperate to feel every inch of you. He slid the silk dress up your thighs, his rough palms grazing your soft skin. Your breath hitched as his thumb brushed against the lace of your panties.

"Now, kisa?" he growled, his voice a mix of need and frustration. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, and you knew you couldn't wait any longer either.

With a sly smile, you whispered, "Alright, let's go to the bedroom."

Your passionate kisses didn't stop as you stumbled down the hallway, Andrei’s hands moving to peel off your dress, his desire unbridled. As you reached the bedroom, the dress fell to the floor in a puddle of silk, revealing your barely-there lingerie. Your heart raced, your body craving his touch.

Andrei laid you on the bed, his eyes dark with want. His fingers traced the outline of your bra, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered in Russian, his voice deep and demanding. Your back arched, your eyes closing in pleasure as you felt his mouth replace his hands.

He kissed a path down your body, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your stomach before he reached the apex of your thighs. You could feel the wetness pooling between your legs, your body begging for his touch. Andrei didn’t disappoint, his mouth closing over your clit through your sheer panties, his tongue flicking and teasing until you were moaning his name.

Your hands were in his hair, guiding him, urging him on as he devoured you. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the softness of his lips, and the roughness of his prickly stubble. Your legs trembled, and you knew you were close to the edge. But Andrei had other plans. He pulled away, his eyes smoldering as he removed your underwear, tossing it aside.

“I want to see you come apart for me, kisa,” he murmured in your ear, his voice thick with lust. “My way of saying sorry.”

Your eyes flew open, meeting his intense gaze. You could feel his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs wider, exposing you to his hungry eyes. Andrei leaned down, his mouth replacing his thumb, his tongue delving deep into your folds. Your grip on the bedsheets tightened as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body responding to his every touch.

Andrei took his time, savoring every gasp and moan that escaped your lips. His tongue danced around your clit, flicking and swirling, driving you closer to the brink of orgasm. Your hips bucked against his face, your legs tightening around his head, urging him to never stop. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the smell of your desire thick in the air.

“Dai, Andrei, please,” you begged, your voice a breathless whisper. Your body was a tight coil, wound up by the masterful way he teased you. Andrei chuckled darkly, his eyes glued to your glistening pussy as he added a finger to the mix, sliding it in and out of you with a rhythm that matched his tongue.

Your eyes rolled back, and you bit your lip to keep from screaming out. His finger curled inside you, finding your sweet spot, and you could feel the orgasm building, ready to crash down on you like a wave. Andrei’s other hand found your breast, squeezing and playing with your nipple, sending sparks of pleasure to your core.

With a final, desperate plea, you came, your body shaking with the intensity of your climax. Andrei didn’t stop, his tongue and finger working in unison until you were nothing but a trembling mess beneath him.

Pulling away, he gave you a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with triumph. Russian rolled off his tongue, “Ya zastavil tebya zhdat' slishkom dolgo, moy milyy kotenok, hmm?” He licked his lips, savoring your taste.

You could only nod, catching the phrase ‘made you wait too long’ and ‘kitten’, your breathing still erratic. Andrei leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours, sharing the flavor of your desire. You felt his erection pressing into your thigh, and you reached down to stroke him, your hand wrapping around his thick length.

He groaned into your mouth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Malishka," he murmured, his voice strained. He pushed your hand away, standing up to remove his own clothes. His pants hit the floor, revealing his boxer briefs, the outline of his hard cock clear. He stepped out of them, standing before you naked and proud.

You took in the sight of him, your eyes lingering on his toned abs, the V that dipped down to his shaft, the heavy erection that stood tall between his legs. You licked your lips, feeling your arousal spike again. Andrei climbed onto the bed, his movements swift and purposeful.

He positioned himself between your legs, his cock poised at your entrance. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you, spread out before him, your chest heaving with every breath, your skin flushed from the orgasm he’d just given you. He leaned down, whispering something in Russian that you didn’t understand, but the way his voice vibrated against your skin sent shivers down your spine.

Andrei slid into you with a groan, his thickness stretching you deliciously. Your nails dug into the bed, your body arching to meet his, your eyes boring into his. He began to move, his strokes deep and measured, each one pushing you closer to another peak.

“Andrei, faster,” you panted, your eyes fluttering shut. You felt his hand wrap around your throat, gently squeezing as his other hand found your clit, his thumb pressing down firmly.

"Open your eyes, kisa," he ordered, his voice gruff with need. Your eyes snapped open, locking onto his as he began to thrust harder, his hips moving with a fierce rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart. His thumb on your clit grew more insistent, the pressure just right to send you spiraling toward another orgasm.

Andrei’s grip on your throat tightened slightly, his eyes focused on yours as he whispered, “You want me to make you feel good, malishka?”

Your eyes widened, the dominance in his voice sending a thrill through you. You nodded, your body already obeying his command. He picked up his pace, his strokes growing more erratic as his own climax approached. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your muscles clenching around him, your walls contracting as you fought for release.

Andrei’s thumb played with your clit with renewed vigor, his hips slamming into you as he claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss. You could feel his cock swell even further, the pink, angry head brushing against your g-spot with every thrust. The hand on your throat tightened, cutting off your air, and making you lightheaded with desire.

He growled in approval, his own climax still a ways off. Andrei’s strokes grew erratic, his movements more primal as he chased his release. Your eyes remained locked with his, the connection between the two of you intense and unbreakable. You could feel the sweat trickling down your spine, your body begging for more, even as you trembled from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

With a sudden movement, Andrei pulled out of you, flipping you onto your stomach with surprising agility. You yelped in surprise, but before you could protest, you felt the head of his cock nudge against your slick entrance from behind. "Andrei," you whined, your voice a mix of pleasure and frustration.

He chuckled darkly. "You want more, kisa?" He didn’t wait for a response before slamming back into you, his hips slapping against your ass. Your moan was muffled by the pillow Andrei had buried your face into. The angle was new, the sensations overwhelming. Each thrust hit deeper than before, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your hands strained against the pillow, pushing yourself back to meet him as he claimed you from behind. You could feel the heat of Andrei’s body surrounding you, his muscles flexing and releasing as he moved in a punishing rhythm. His grip on your hips was firm, guiding your body to his will, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered words that only added to the erotic symphony of your lovemaking.

"Do you want to touch me? Do you want to feel how hard I am for you?" Andrei’s voice was a gruff whisper in your ear as he pounded into you, his hand reaching around to stroke your clit again. You nodded frantically, your voice lost in the pillow.

"Vpered, prodolzhat'," Andrei hummed over you, giving you the permission you craved to reach out and feel his skin on yours.

You reached behind yourself, your hand finding his forearm, the muscles tight with effort. Your fingertips danced along the slick skin, feeling the power in every flex of his bicep as he pounded into you. The sensation of his cock filling you from this angle was exquisite, and you could feel your body responding, already building towards another peak.

Impatient, Andrei yanked you up by your arms, so you were on your knees, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. You moaned, your hands reaching back to grip his hips, your nails digging into his skin. He groaned, his movements growing more urgent. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, a testament to your passion.

"Harder," you gasped, your body begging for more. Andrei obliged, his strokes growing rougher, his grip on your hips tightening. You could feel his cock swell even further, his balls slapping against your clit with each powerful thrust. Your body was on fire, your orgasm building again.

Andrei leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth at your ear. "Khoroshiy?" he murmured in Russian, his voice sending shivers down your spine as he asked if you were good. You nodded, your body tightening as you approached the edge once more, unable to form words to respond to him.

He whispered something else you couldn’t process, and you felt him shift his angle, his cock brushing against that sensitive spot deep within you. A whiny moan escaped your lips, and your head fell back against your boyfriend's shoulder. Andrei’s breath grew ragged, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that had your toes curling.

"Come for me," he demanded, his fingers trailing up to your throat once more. The gentle pressure was enough to send you spiraling over the edge, your body convulsing around his. Your scream of pleasure was broken as it fought its way through your constricted airway. Your soul practically left your body, the orgasm so intense it was almost painful. You could feel the fluid leaving your body, dampening the sheets as droplets landed on Andrei who simply grunted, his strokes never slowing.

"Andrei," you panted, your voice hoarse from screaming. He leaned down, kissing the side of your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. "Ya lyublyu tebya, kisa," he murmured, his voice thick with passion.

"Love you," you hummed, your words faltering as you came down from your orgasm.

You felt his thumb tracing lazy circles against your pulse point. His other hand found your clit, his movements precise and demanding. Your body responded instantly, your hips bucking back to meet his. You could feel him smiling against your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

When you finally came back to Earth, you could feel Andrew’s cum sticking to your thighs. You collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, your legs quivering, your breathing ragged. "I didn’t even realize you came too," you murmured, turning to look at him over your shoulder.

Andrei pulled out, his cock glistening with your combined juices. He didn’t bother to cover himself as he stumbled over to the bathroom to clean up. When he returned, he was still hard, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his aroused state. You had never seen him like this before, so raw and needy. It was both interesting and exhilarating.

He climbed back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached out, his hand grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your foreheads were touching. His voice was low and gruff as he whispered, "You think this is funny?"

Your smile grew wider, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "A little," you admitted. Andrei’s grip tightened, but you didn’t flinch, your own desire sparking for a brief second as you felt his length finally begin to soften against your leg.

"Legs," Andrei hummed, instructing you to open up so he could clean you up. You giggled, your cheeks flushed with pleasure and a hint of embarrassment, spreading your legs wider for him. His gentle touch and the cool cloth against your sensitive skin were a cool relief from the fiery passion you had just shared. He took his time, wiping away every trace of your lovemaking, his focus on taking care of you in the aftermath of your passion.

Once you were cleaned up, Andrei lay beside you, pulling you into his arms. His chest was still heaving, his heart racing from the intensity of your encounter. Your eyes drifted shut, a contented sigh escaping your lips as you felt the warmth of his body envelop you. His hand caressed your back, his thumb making soothing circles that had you melting into him.

The two of you lay there, basking in the afterglow, your skin sticky with sweat, the scent of sex heavy in the air. Andrei’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his leg thrown over yours in a possessive manner. You felt his breath against your neck, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. It was moments like these you cherished, the quiet moments after passion had taken over, when your bodies were still joined, your hearts beating as one.

“Why did you do this to me?” Andrei’s voice was a mix of playfulness and exasperation. You chuckled, turning your head to look at him.

“Me? Do this to you?” you replied, feigned innocence in your tone. You wiggled closer, your eyes sparkling to match the cheeky smile that graced your face. “You’re the one who started this whole 'No Nut November' thing. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t forgetting how good we are together.”

Andrei sighed, his hand tightening briefly around your waist before he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I never forget, kisa,” he murmured, his voice thick with appreciation. You felt a warmth spread through you, his pet name for you a sweet reminder of his affection. You snuggled closer, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you.

For a moment, you lay in silence, the only sound the distant murmur of the Raleigh nightlife. Then Andrei spoke up, his tone more serious. “No more challenges for me.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a hint of skepticism. “What about your pride, Svech?” you teased, using his nickname.

“You are my pride, kisa,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before, and it made your heart race.

You leaned up on your elbow, studying his face. “Really?” you whispered, your voice filled with wonder. Andrei nodded, his thumb brushing over your full bottom lip.

“You win, kisa. I can’t resist you, and I don’t want to.” His eyes searched yours, a silent promise in their depths. You felt your heart swell, the love you felt for him overwhelming you. You leaned in, your lips pressing to his in a gentle kiss. It was filled with all the love and passion you felt for this man who had stumbled into your life and turned it upside down in the best way possible.

Andrei’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, and deepening the kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing with yours in a silent apology for his earlier stubbornness. You melted into the embrace, your bodies still humming together from the show of your love.

[martinecas]

ANDREI SVECHNIKOV

via tiktok

[celbrini]

svechnikov's road back

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Nhl Recs

Jack Hughes

Everybody wants you but I don’t like a gold rush by @sunkissed-zegras

A Shoulder To Cry On, Is A Dick To Ride On by @drysdalesv

-> this was one of the first fics i read that included Trevor zegras…and boy did he piss me off. We love when the best friend could be a better man/fuck AND I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF THIS if you disagree you can leave 🚪

Intro (end of the world) by @fiapartridge

Always his by @sc0tters

Breakable heaven by @chewingcyanide

-> had me by my throat when I read it. I screamed and went through all the stages of grief when I saw there was a master list. Jack in this feels so complex bc he doesn’t know wtf he’s doing, getting a little jealous, not giving us the whole truth. I wish I could’ve been y/n in this.

Your smile by @chewingcyanide

The beginning by @luvhughes43

Luke Hughes

I was in love by @withwritersblock

Tidal waves by @babydollmarauders

-> every mark I’ve read about in nhl fanfiction sucks and I hope the worst for them, so you can bet your toosh I didn’t feel bad for this mark either. The smut was jaw dropping, even after it finished I wanted more. I still need more. 100/10 for the drama, it was just so well paced and entertaining.

Ceilings by @wineauntie

espresso by @eleutherafairy

-> if you’re into fluffy/ hockey simps fic this is a must read, because that is exactly my type and I would bet my first born that Luke is a simp like this in real life.

definitely the annoying little brother by @heartsandhischier

the mortifying ordeal of being a 20 y/o virgin by @theemporium

-> I included this one, not only because I love it, but because it’s so hard to find fic where you genuinely believe it portrays the character right. In this case everything about the writing felt so realistic, from the details of the apartment down to the smut. I’m clawing at the bars of my enclosure for the next chapter 😩

Trevor Zegras

Friends with benefits by @sunkissed-zegras

Andrei Svechnikov

Sunkissed by @sydnikov

-> so embarrassing to say, but when I stumbled upon this I read part 2 by accident, but boy was I happy I did. The drama, the possibility he was gonna stay with his girl, HIM COMING WITH THE BOYS AFTER Y/N AND HIM FELL OUT. Ugh it was perfection, a definite 10/10.

The one by @holy-pucks

Every summer has a story by @comphy-and-cozy

Fuck it if I cant have us by @sunkissed-zegras

Take me back to eden by @mendeshoney

Part 2 take me back to eden pt 2

-> this was one of my first andrei fics i read, bitch when I tell you i was hooked immediately. I didn’t want it to end. The power this fictional, mature and seasoned andrei svechhnikov has over me is actually so embarrassing to admit.

Power play of the heart by @heartsandhischiers

[drei-mrssvechii]

cookie time! | andrei svechnikov

join my taglist!

pairing: dad!andrei svechnikov x reader

warnings: mentions of andrei's injury, the canes doing not so well, kids.

word count: 690 words

a/n: ok so i wrote this around last year when svech got injured for playoffs and i'm just posting it now lololol. but anyway! i felt like this was such a cute concept and needed to write it, so here it is! hope you enjoy it, i'm always open to feedback, requests, etc, etc.

“how much time till you can return to skating, dada?” your little girl, sofiya, asked as andrei tucked her into bed.

“that’s quite a long time, sunshine,” he replied. she pouted; there was nothing she loved more than going to games and supporting her daddy in her little svech jersey.

though andrei’s injury kept him off the ice, there wasn’t much anyone could do to stop him from visiting the rink, and sofiya would gladly follow him everywhere—she was such a daddy’s girl, after all.

so you’d still attend some games, but ever since svech was out, losing had become a constant, and frustration was clearly building within the team. especially for andrei, who couldn’t help but feel guilty for not being able to play.

the mood wasn’t the best, but when it came to sofiya, he would always put on a smile. it wasn’t often that they got to spend so much time together, so she loved having him home to attend her tea parties, tuck her into bed, and take her to school. as much as she adored it, though, she knew her dad missed being on the ice, and sofiya didn’t like seeing him hurt and sad. so one morning, just as she heard andrei leaving for therapy, she went downstairs with what she thought was the perfect plan to cheer him up.

you were in the kitchen, tidying up from breakfast. it was still early, so you planned to get a bit more sleep, assuming your little girl wouldn’t be up until later—or so you thought, until you heard her quick footsteps on the stairs.

“morning, love. what are you doing up so early?” you asked, watching as she entered the kitchen and grabbed a stool to stand next to you.

“can we make chocolate chip cookies?” she asked, leaving a kiss on your cheek.

“cookies? it’s too early for those, baby,” you said, though knowing chocolate chip cookies were her all-time favorite.

“i know, mom, but cookies make me happy. i bet they’ll make dada happy, too!” she said, explaining her plan with such conviction that you couldn’t help but smile.

it was so sweet how she was thinking of ways to cheer up her dad. so, you quickly gave in, gathered all the ingredients, and handed her a small apron.

she started by cracking the eggs (with a tiny bit of shell making it into the bowl), then you helped her measure the flour, and sofiya poured in what seemed like way too many chocolate chips. the kitchen turned into a delightful mess: flour dusted the counters, little chocolate fingerprints decorated the cabinets, and sofiya sneaked a few chocolate chips every chance she got.

“daddy’s gonna love this!” she said, her eyes shining with excitement.

but just as the first batch of cookies went into the oven, you heard the door open earlier than expected, and sofiya’s face fell.

“oh no, mom! he’s here too soon. it’s all ruined,” she muttered, disappointed.

andrei stepped into the kitchen, chuckling as he took in the scene—flour everywhere, cookie dough on the counters, and sofiya’s pouty face.

“sunshine, what’s all this?” he asked, his eyes softening as he looked at her.

“i wanted to surprise you,” she murmured. “make you happy like you make me happy.”

his face brightened, and he pulled her into a warm hug. “well, you sure did, kiddo. this is the best surprise i could ask for.”

sofiya smiled brightly, inviting him to join her. together, the three of you continued baking. as andrei helped sofiya clean up the counters, you caught his eye, sharing a warm smile. moments like these were rare but so precious.

as the cookies finished baking, andrei had an idea. “hey, sweetheart, how about we take these cookies to practice and share them with the team?”

sofiya’s eyes lit up in excitement. “yes! they’ll be so happy. i miss uncle jarvy,” she said with a little pout.

“he sure misses you too, baby.”

and with a plate of freshly baked cookies in hand, the three of you headed to the rink, just as morning skate wrapped up.

-

taglist: @sydnikov @cammie1634 @honeygarfield @svechnikov3737 @this-is-ally-and-im-confused @barzyandhughesbaby @tinyhockey @boeswhore @owenpowerstapejob @kailyn-writes @stars-canucks @ssebastianaho @beauvertime @barzyblogbabe @hockey-racing-fubol @1-800-iluvhockey | join here!

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: hey there! i never actually planned on writing a sequel to ‘9 pm’ but a few anons asked about it and i liked the idea of giving them some happiness following that fic! the perfect title gave me the idea for the fic and here we are ☺️ i hope you guys enjoy!!

word count: 2.8k

tw: brief and minor mention of a miscarriage, pregnancy

direct sequel to 9 p.m. in vancouver

summary: andrei’s off on a road trip and you’re more exhausted than normal. once you realize why, you have to call andrei immediately

It’s barely ten at night and you’re falling asleep on the couch, Friends rerun playing at a low volume on the TV. Your blinks get longer, eyelids heavy, while Joey yells about the Coast Guard.

A yawn creaks at your jaw and you try to blink away some of the sudden exhaustion in your body. It doesn’t really work, another yawn catching you a few minutes later. You wrap your arms around one of the throw pillows, cheek smashed up against the pillow tucked under your head.

It’s been a long few days, work overwhelming you and Andrei up in the tri-state area for a mini road trip. The Canes had lost to the Flyers before beating the Devils. They’re currently up two goals on the Rangers, according to your NHL app updates, with just a few minutes left in the third.

The team will spend the night in the city before heading to Long Island for the second half of a back to back tomorrow.

It’s a grueling schedule so early in the season, four games in six days, and you know Andrei will be exhausted when he gets home on Monday morning. At least they’re off for two days before hitting the ice for a home game on Wednesday. You yawn again and decide vaguely that maybe you’ll go to the game, if you can keep your eyes open. It’s been a while since you went to the arena and you miss watching Andrei play live.

You can’t help but think briefly about the game in Vancouver last November, almost a year ago now, and your hand drifts to your stomach.

The baby would’ve been four months old, probably keeping you wide awake right now.

You don’t really think about the loss as much anymore, you can go long stretches of time without thinking about him - because you’d decided that it was a boy, even though it was too early to ever tell. Your due date had come around at the end of July and Andrei had spirited you out of the country, the both of you quiet and moody for a few days.

And then training camp had started and you’d gotten busy with work and then the season started and you didn’t dwell on the loss for a while.

But now it’s late and you’re tired and you haven’t seen Andrei in a few days and you should be cuddling a baby right now.

A few tears trickle down your temple and you swipe at them, emotion clogging your throat.

“God, get a grip,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head slightly. It’s not even like you’re on your period to be so hormonal right now. Your brain takes a second to process the thought and when it does, your eyes widen and you kick your legs out, struggling with the blanket to try and sit up.

“Oh, oh my god,” you scramble for your phone, tossing blankets around until you hear the tell-tale thunk of the phone hitting the floor. You lunge for it, the TV remote going flying, but you barely pay attention to that as your fingers wrap around the loop on the back of your phone case and snatch it off the floor.

Your hands shake violently as you unlock your phone and thumb over to find your period tracker app. The app takes seconds to load, seconds where your heart beats wildly and your vision goes a little blurry. You mutter, “come on, faster, faster,” under your breath and suddenly the screen loads and there in the center of the screen, in bold font, is the notice that your period has been late for more than thirty days.

You’ve missed two periods.

Without even realizing it.

To be fair to yourself, after the miscarriage, everything was thrown off and you’ve only had seven or eight periods in the past year. So it’s not totally crazy that you didn’t realize you missed two cycles.

Your stomach lurches a little bit and you chew at your lower lip. You probably should take a test. But do you want to know without Andrei, again?

It didn’t work out so well last time.

You’re probably not even pregnant, you rationalize, it’s the stress of a new season starting and your body getting back to normal.

Never mind the fact that you’ve long been cleared to get pregnant again and your gynaecologist hadn’t said anything was wrong at your last appointment.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, nearly scaring the shit out of you. It’s just a notification from the NHL app - sometime in the last few minutes, while you’d been spiralling, the Rangers had tied the game and it was going to overtime.

Overtime anxiety is better than maybe-pregnant anxiety, so you tune into Bally, the sudden brightness of the glare off the ice making you blink. You’re half-heartedly paying attention, fingers tapping against your thigh while the players zip up and down the ice, trading scoring chances. Andrei’s on the ice for a shift and then he’s back on the bench. Pyotr makes a save and then another and then he doesn’t.

You frown at the TV, watching Andrei and the guys file off the ice, miserable for the team’s loss. You change the channel back to Nick at Nite, not interested in seeing the post-game analysis of the loss.

The audience laughter from the show echoes around the living room and you chew at your lower lip anxiously. Andrei won’t be back to his hotel room for hours, the post-game process already underway, but between media, a shower, and the travel. Well, it’ll be at least close to midnight before you can talk to him.

He’ll reassure you that you’re overthinking, that it’s nothing. But a quiet part of your brain is insistent that you’re pregnant and it just won’t shut up.

The smartest thing would be to take a test, find out once and for all if you’re even going to mention anything to Andrei. You’re pretty sure there’s no tests left after last time and if there are, they’re probably expired.

Your fingers tap at the screen of your phone almost by memory, the Google search showing that there’s a twenty-four hour CVS just a ten minute drive away.

The episode ends and another begins while you sit on that information, giving yourself a moment to imagine what you’ll do if the test is positive. He has to know immediately this time, you don’t think you’d be able to wait.

“Oh fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, pushing the blankets off your legs and getting up from the couch. Your vision goes fuzzy, briefly, the blood rushing from your head. You blink and everything shifts back into focus, your heart hammering a little.

Before you can overthink it, you turn off the TV and head for the front door, making a stop at the front hall closet to grab a jacket. Your fingers close around the sleeve of one of Andrei’s, the jacket dwarfing your frame as you slip your arms into the sleeves. You shove your feet into a ratty pair of Uggs and drop a faded Canes ball cap on your head.

You look insane, more like a college kid doing a walk of shame than a married woman, but Andrei’s scent embedded deep into the collar of his jacket is comforting you.

At CVS, you grab at the pregnancy test boxes like a woman possessed - Clear Blue, First Response, and the CVS generic brand all go into your basket, along with a bag of pumpkin shaped Reese’s Cups and a pack of Twizzlers. Something about the waxy, artificial strawberry ropes seems appealing right now.

Thank God for self-checkout, you don’t think you can face another person right now.

The pregnancy tests feel like they weigh a million pounds in the plastic bag and you gnaw anxiously on a Twizzler as you drive back home.

It’s well after midnight by the time you manage to drink enough water in order to pee on all the sticks and this round is more anxiety producing than when you’d done it over a year ago. Once you’re done, you set the timer on your phone and flip each stick over on the counter, so you can’t see the displays.

Instead of waiting in the bathroom, which is feeling small and stuffy despite how large it actually is, you pace around your bedroom for the few minutes it takes for your timer to count down. You wonder if you could call Andrei now, be on the phone with him when you look at the display, but if you’re not pregnant and he’s on the phone, he’ll be disappointed right before the next set of games. He’s been talking about it a little more lately, in the abstract, how nice it’ll be to have a baby one day. And you maybe haven’t been as enthusiastic as he’s been, so you don’t want to get his hopes up.

If you’re not pregnant, Andrei doesn’t need to know that you worried yourself into a tizzy over nothing.

But if you are? Well, Andrei will be the first call anyway.

The timer goes off on your phone and the sudden, shrill noise makes you jump. Your stomach lurches and you flatten your palm over it. Underneath the anxiety, there’s a little bubble of excitement growing, the thought of a baby providing a little spark of joy.

You wander back into the bathroom and close your eyes before flipping the tests over with shaking hands.

The plastic clatters against the countertop and you squint one eye open and then the other, vision focusing on the little displays.

“Oh!” You gasp, eyes immediately filling with tears, hands flying up to cover your mouth.

All three are positive, the little Clear Blue display declaring you ‘Pregnant’ in tiny letters.

Tears slip down your cheeks and you start giggling wildly, overwhelmed in the best possible way. Your hands press on your stomach, palms flat and fingers splayed.

“Hey there, baby,” you murmur, looking down. “Stay safe in there, okay? We want to meet you.”

The tears fall faster and you wipe at them with your shoulder, a damp splotch forming on the fabric of your sweatshirt. It’s so late, but you need to tell Andrei, and you move on autopilot, climbing onto your bed and finding your phone among the messy covers - the bed hasn’t been made in two days because Andrei is more of a stickler for that than you are and you like to get right back into the nest of blankets at the end of the day. It’s on your list of things to do before he’s back in a few days. Now, you pile yourself into a little cocoon of the blankets and comforters, warm and happy.

You text him first, just a quick ‘you awake?’ that you know he’s going to read as a request for phone sex.

True enough, your phone vibrates in your hand a few seconds later, Andrei’s name at the top of the screen. You grin and slide the bar to answer, “hey there.”

“Is late,” he replies, a faint laugh in his tone. “Thought you would be sleeping.”

“No,” you giggle, feeling a little unhinged. “Not asleep. Couldn’t sleep. Um, are you alone?”

Your husband laughs fully now, the sound echoing over the line. “Solnyshka, been a long day. I love you, but we have early morning,” he teases and the rumble of his voice makes you smile.

“No, not for that you perv,” you shoot back, twisting your fingers in a loose thread. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You know you’re sounding vague and strange, but to his credit, Andrei doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, he’s quiet for a second before your phone vibrates against your ear, signalling an incoming text. You pull the phone from your ear and tap over to your messages, laughing when you see the picture Andrei just sent.

The hotel room is nearly pitch black, but you can still make out the shape of Martin Nečas passed out in his bed with what looks like an eye mask covering his face. Andrei’s grinning face is cut off in the corner of the picture.

“Guess that’s a yes then,” you smile, bringing the phone back to your ear.

“Neci has earplugs in too,” Andrei informs you. “Says I snore, which is lie.”

It’s not, but you don’t feel like relitigating that particular point with him right now. So you move on.

“I know I should’ve waited, done something cute, but I’m bursting,” you let the words come out in a rush, feeling lightheaded with excitement. “I couldn’t, I had to tell you right away, Drei, baby, I’m pregnant.”

Andrei’s silent on the other end and a slightly manic laugh bubbles out of your mouth while you wait for him to say something.

“Pregnant?” He repeats, sounding like he’s just taken a blow to the stomach - winded and hoarse. “Like, with baby?”

“Yeah, mhm,” you hum, just letting the news soak in. Andrei’s breathing is audible in your ear, a soft ‘huh’ puffing out.

He starts to laugh and you can hear the grin in his voice when he says, “oh, solnyshka, fuck, I’m… ya chertovski schastliv.”

He slips into Russian and you’re not totally familiar with the words, but he repeats them in English, “I’m so fucking happy. Are you okay? How you feel?”

“I’m okay, I was feeling a little tired earlier,” you say. “That’s kind of why I took the test, just to see.”

Without asking, Andrei switches the call to a FaceTime and you pull the phone back, his grinning face taking up the entire screen. He looks lighter and happier than he has in months and the sight of him, of that smile that you love so much, makes you emotional.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he shakes his head, still smiling. “Hold you, something other than smile like idiot on phone.”

“I’m just happy to see your smile,” you say truthfully. A hug wouldn’t be unwelcome, but just seeing Andrei’s face has you calmer. “It’s late,” you continue, catching sight of the time in the top left corner of your phone - nearly 1:30 in the morning. “You should get some sleep.”

The adrenaline is starting to wear off now and you slump back against the pillows and headboard.

Andrei nods. “Call me when you get up,” he requests, phone bouncing slightly as he shifts on the bed. “We leave early, but call any time, okay?”

“Okay,” you promise, pressing your lips together to smother a yawn. “Hey, I love you.”

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Andrei replies in Russian, warm and awed. “You and baby, both.”

You’re both quiet for a bit, comfortable and sleepy, reluctant to end the call. You just want to enjoy his long-distance presence and this little bubble, but eventually Martin lets out a snore on his side of the room, startling you since you forgot he was there. Andrei laughs faintly and reluctantly ends the call, after telling you he loves you again.

Now that Andrei knows, your whole body relaxes and you sink happily into the nest of blankets and pillows, curled up in a c-shape, one hand on your stomach.

There’s a million things to figure out in the coming days, weeks, and months, a million worries to ruminate on, but for now, you fall asleep with a smile on your face and pure happiness bubbling in your stomach.

The next morning, you snooze your alarm and allow yourself to wake up slowly and lazily. It’s an easy morning and you don’t plan on getting out of bed until you hear the doorbell ring.

With a grumble, you climb out of bed and shove your feet into a pair of slippers to pad downstairs, wondering who could be at the door this early.

It’s a delivery man, half-hidden behind a huge bouquet of flowers. You accept it, surprised at the delivery but not at the sender.

The oversized bouquet made up of baby roses, baby’s breath, and a few other types all in various shades of baby pink and baby blue can only be from your husband. Your face hurts from the size of your smile and you dig out the little card from between a pale pinks rose and a light blue hydrangea.

‘I love you, we will celebrate as soon as I am home. A hug and a kiss from New York for you, mama. -A’

It’s not Andrei’s handwriting, but you trace your fingers over the letters and feel tears well up. Any concerns or worries you might have about having a baby are pushed aside.

Andrei’s going to be the best dad and you’re so lucky to be doing this with him.

[pyotrkochetkov]

[swayhughes]

[hanaaishi]

ANDREI SVECHNIKOV - 3.4.2024

[heartmix]

Injury Prone - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x wife!reader

Word Count: 500+

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

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

Masterlist / Hockey Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you very much Dr. Johnson." 

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

"You too doctor."

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

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

"Are you serious?"

[kentjohnson91]

Got Bored So I Made Memes Again🤷