#him pointing at rhett when the girl in the voicemail said she likes rhett's hair

[jula483]

link's cute little reaction to the voicemail in gmmore

(x)

[thebluenoteblog]

Playing With Fire

Summary: All this on and off again is getting really exhausting, but if you’re being honest with yourselves, neither of you can stay away.

Player: Andrei Svechnikov

Word Count: 3.2k

Requested: Can you do an imagine about Andrei svechnikov based on playing with fire by Thomas rhett

Note: I wrote Andrei’s dialogue slightly different. It was only with the intention of making it more accurate because he speaks with such a heavy accent? It’s nothing crazy, I just wanted it to read a little differently. I’m not trying to offend anyone, I’m sorry if this does.

I know I should let it go

Take a different road

When I'm driving home

But I don't want to

Andrei’s eyes shifted from the road in front of him to the exit sign that was quickly approaching. He was an idiot. He was completely ridiculous for taking this highway home when he could have hopped on one of two others to get back to his apartment from the rink. Yet here he was, about to pass the exit that he had taken so many times. The exit that it was engrained in him to take because it was natural. It was normal. He was supposed to. You were waiting for him.

Except you weren’t.

You weren’t waiting for him. Not anymore. He wasn’t supposed to take that exit. He was supposed to keep driving and pretend that every fiber of his being wasn’t dragging him toward your front door, pulling him toward you. Begging him to be with you just one more time.

Just as he was about to pass it, he swerved into the exit lane. He wanted to be mad at himself, but he couldn’t be. A part of him had known the moment that he had jumped on this highway that he would end up on your front porch before the night was over.

As he pulled up in front of your house, parked his car in the spot that it had sat a thousand times and made his way to your front door, there was a nagging thought in the back of his mind. This constant reminder that he shouldn’t be here. That he had messed everything up. That you didn’t want to be with him anymore. However, just like every time before, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching up his hand and knocking on the door. Just like every time before, you couldn’t stop yourself from peeking through the curtains and watching him, standing there, staring at you with his head halfway hung, eyes uncertain. Just like every time before, you couldn’t stop yourself from opening the door and holding out a hand to him, taking his and inviting him inside.

“Just one more night, Andrei,” you said.

You both knew that was a lie.

Delete your number from my phone

Instead of calling

Asking if you're all alone

But I don't want to

It was one o’clock in the morning, Andrei was in New York, and he was a fucking idiot who just had to watch your snap story. Now, he knew you were out at a club with your friends. Because he had watched your best friends snap story, he knew that you were dancing with some guy. His decent night quickly turned into a shitty one.

It was an hour and a half after you posted the last snaps to your stories that he finally gave up on getting any sleep and pulled up your number. He stared at your contact picture for a long time, the two of you, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, him folded over you, his cheek pressed against the side of your face, you were both smiling these huge smiles. What had happened?

He didn’t think he would ever be able to delete a single picture of you. Especially not this one.

He knew he would never delete your number.

He shouldn’t call you. He should put his phone away and go to sleep. He had a game the next day. He would have to be up to meet the team for breakfast before he even had a chance to sleep at this rate; but he couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t just go to sleep without calling you and seeing if you would answer.

So, he dialed your number.

It rang until he thought it was going to go to voicemail.

Then it didn’t. You answered the phone giggling. “Andrei!”

He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. There was so much relief in the breath that he let out that he couldn’t help himself when he responded, “I am glad you answered, (Y/N/N).”

You giggled again, and he heard you stumble over something and mumble “Oops,” before responding, “I always answer when you call. I miss you.”

He swallowed and closed his eyes, focusing on the darkness instead of your words. It was difficult. “You do not mean that.”

“I do!” You said, voice loud and determined. “I miss you all the time!”

Andrei rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. He waited, gathering his thoughts before he spoke. He turned his head to the side and said, “I miss you too, (Y/N).”

“Then why don’t you come over?” She asked, her voice dropping.

His heart skipped, “(Y/N), I am in New York right now.” She was quiet and after a moment he added, “Besides, do you not have a friend to keep you company tonight?” He pressed his lips together as soon as he said it, immediately regretting the last ten minutes.

“What?” She asked confused. Then she giggled, “Oh, Devin? He isn’t anything.”

She hadn’t said that she hadn’t gone home with him. He couldn’t make himself ask.

Stay away

From your side of town

But it's too late

I'm in your drive right now

The engine shut off and you leaned back against the headrest, staring up at Andrei’s apartment building. You could see his windows, you could see the lights on. You knew that he was awake. You also knew that you shouldn’t be here. It was a useless point to make with yourself though. No matter how many times you tried to drill into your thick skull that you should stay away from this part of the city, you always ended up here somehow.

Almost as though you were in a trance, you ended up walking through the lobby of his apartment building. You walked over to the desk and asked the young woman to call him, but she waved you up. She recognized you after all the times you had been here, despite the few weeks it had been since you had last broken down and showed up at his apartment.

Somehow, against your better judgement, you found yourself knocking on Andrei’s door. It took a moment for him to open it. When he did, he blinked at you a few times, whether it was shock or that he was determining whether or not he was hallucinating, you didn’t know. You smiled hesitantly at him, “I gave you one more night, do I get one too?”

He reached out his hand and you took it, “I can never tell you no.”

I don't know, why I don't

Put it out baby

We kiss and the flames

Just get higher

But yeah I know

When I hold onto you baby

I'm all tangled up in barbed wire

As soon as the door was closed behind you, he backed you up against it, placing his hands on either side of your face and locking his lips with yours. You swore that every time you kissed, your entire body lit up. Every nerve ending exploded. This time was no different. The way he reacted you could only assume that it was the same for him.

He gripped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up, so you could wrap your legs around his waist. You tangled your hands in his hair and just enjoyed the feeling of having him this close to you, of having his body pressed against yours.

His hands squeezed your hips, holding onto you not for stability, but because he wanted to hold onto you. You clawed at his shirt, but he didn’t move, he just kept you pressed against the door, pressed against him. He didn’t want this to be fast and rough and dirty.

He wanted it to last. He wanted it to be so late at night when you were finished that you didn’t have a choice but to stay with him until the morning. He wanted to wake up next to you one more time instead of watching you rush out of his apartment with a look of regret on your face.

He couldn’t get over this. He couldn’t get over you.

He needed you to stay.

I could find a spot to

Go hang out on Friday night

Where you ain’t gonna be

But I don't want to, no

Yeah, I could let it end

Call it quits, call off

All this on and off again

But I just don't want to

“Don’t look now, five o’clock,” Allison said, pushing a drink into your hand.

Of course, you looked. Of course, you couldn’t help yourself because you knew exactly who was at five o’clock. You turned your head less discretely than you would like to think you had and locked eyes with Andrei. Your face flushed, and you looked away quickly when you saw that he wasn’t alone. There was some very long legged scantily clad girl hanging on him.

You took a deep breath and turned back to your friend, tears welling in your eyes. You downed about half of your drink in one go and then turned and headed onto the dance floor. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had every right to move on. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe it was a good thing that he was seeing other people now. Maybe the two of you would finally be able to break this cycle.

You and Allison didn’t dance alone for long before a couple of men came up and asked if they could join you. Allison looked at you, a question in her eyes, then she looked over at Andrei who was now staring directly at you. The woman who was with him before was gone and he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the conversations of the other guys around him. He was too focused on you. Eyes locked on the man who had just asked you to dance.

Maybe it was petty. Maybe it was childish. You said yes. You didn’t look back at Andrei until you and the man broke apart and he and his friend disappeared into the crowd. When he was gone, you couldn’t help your curiosity. Had Andrei found someone new to hang off his arm in the last five minutes? You turned to where you had seen him last, only to find that he wasn’t there. His friends were all there, he was gone.

You frowned. There was no way that he just left that quickly.

“Would you like another drink?”

You jumped and turned to face Andrei who was now standing beside you, frown firmly planted on his face. “No thank you. I’m okay.”

He nodded and looked down at the floor, “I am sorry.”

“For what?” You asked, taking a step closer to him in an effort to hear over the music.

He frowned and looked back up at you, “For…” he sighed and shook his head, “Nothing.”

You stared at him, reading the look on his face. He was upset, you knew him well enough to know that. You could take a good guess at why, because you knew why you were wearing the same look on your face. He looked around you, his eyes landing on something over your shoulder and he shook his head again, this time at whoever had motioned to him.

You wondered if it was his friends or the girl. You didn’t want to look and find out. “Listen, you don’t have to answer to me. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“Do you want me to be with other girls?” He asked.

You swallowed roughly, your face paling. “No.”

“That is all I needed to know,” he said quietly. For a long moment, you stared at each other then he ducked his head down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Then with his lips beside your ear he spoke just loud enough to be heard over the music, “I go home alone tonight,” he said, “because I would rather go home with you.”

Yeah that key

Is right under the mat

Come on in, baby

Let's strike that match

You know where I keep the key.

Andrei had received the message twenty minutes earlier and now he was pulling the key out from under the doormat like there was nothing in the world wrong with what he was doing. Like he wasn’t breaking any rules. Like you weren’t his ex-girlfriend. Like he shouldn’t be at home sleeping because he had a game the next day and he was going to be fucked if he wasn’t rested.

None of that mattered to him though, because he pushed the door open, and you were sitting on the couch with two glasses of wine on the coffee table in front of you. You’d been waiting for him. You knew he would come. You were wearing a silky red robe, just a little lose, enough to show some cleavage. His throat went dry as he pushed the door closed behind him and started across the room.

“Why all of this?” He asked.

You shrugged, “I guess I wanted to see you. I thought I would be a good host.”

You were being a good host all right. He was tall enough, and your robe lose enough that he could see the bra you were wearing, and god did he want to see more of it. “You should be a good host more often.”

“Don’t push it,” you said.

He held up his hands, in that innocent way that boys did when they were taking the blame for something but not fully admitting that they had done something wrong. He made his way to you and took his seat on the couch, picking up his glass of wine. His eyes scanned your face for a moment before he said, “We should talk tonight.”

You contemplated this. It was dangerous. It was opening up the only part of your heart you had sealed off back up to him. He was looking at you so hopefully though, that you couldn’t say no. “Okay,” you said, “Lets talk.”

I get burned, I don't learn

I'll be back, give it time

Yeah, I know it sounds crazy

But guess I like playing with fire

Playing with fire

It was eleven o’clock when someone knocked on your door. It was only because of the time and the knowledge that his game had ended the perfect amount of time ago, you were pretty sure you knew exactly who it was. You pulled the door open and confirmed your suspicion. This time though, Andrei didn’t look ashamed to be standing on your porch, he looked hesitant, but hopeful.

You took his hand and pulled him inside, this time you didn’t say that this was the last time. You didn’t tell him “Only one more night,” because you both knew that it wasn’t true. Neither of you wanted that. Neither of you were ready for that yet. As much as you wished you were strong enough to move on, you weren’t. You needed him right now. You couldn’t let him go yet.

So, when he pressed his lips to yours, you let him. You savored every second of it.

So let's fire it up one more time

(Fire it up one more time)

Baby just put your lips on mine

(Lips on mine)

Andrei woke up with you laying across his chest. He stared down at you, at your hair fanned across the pillow, watching the way the light danced on your skin through the crack in the curtains that he hadn’t closed all the way. You were beautiful. You were amazing. You weren’t his. Not anymore.

God, he wanted to fix that. He wanted to fix that more than anything in the world in that moment. He realized that all along, that is what he wanted. All the late-night visits, the promises to go home alone, it was all because he had wanted to fix things with you. He wanted you back. He wanted more than waking up with you sometimes, when he managed to drag things out until you were too tired to drive home when things were said and done. He wanted this all the time.

He wanted you.

He watched as your eyelids fluttered, woken by either the sunlight or the change in his breathing under you, he didn’t know. You slowly looked up at him and a smile graced your face when your eyes connected. It lasted for all of ten seconds before it was replaced with a frown and you moved to push yourself off of his chest. “I’m sorry,” you said, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I like it when you sleep here,” he said, “You should apologize for leaving.”

You shifted your eyes back to him, “What?”

“I don’t like it when you leave,” he said. “I like waking up with you.”

“Andrei,” you shook your head, “We can’t-,”

“Why not?” He asked.

You stared at him blankly, waiting for further elaboration.

“We cannot stay away from each other. We do not like when we see each other with other people. Why can we not be together?” He asked.

“It didn’t work last time,” you said, already shaking your head and clutching the sheet to your chest, moving to get out of the bed. As far away from this conversation as you could.

Andrei sat up, he wrapped his hand loosely around your wrist, but it was enough to stop you. “So, we try harder this time. We make it work.”

You stared at the sheet in front of you. You had picked out this set, he almost always had them on his bed when you came over. They were always clean, but he was almost always using the set you had picked out. “Do you think we can? Do really think we can make this work? Or do you think we’re just too far in to let go?”

“(Y/N), look at me,” he said. You turned to face him. In his eyes you saw the sincerity of his answer, “I know we can make it work. I love you. I do not want to let us go. I want to make this work.”

You were quiet for a long moment and you watched as his gaze flicked between both of your eyes, searching for any hint. Finally, you said, “You’re right. We should give this another shot.”

His smile came slowly, like he was afraid he had misheard you, or maybe translated the words incorrectly. After a few seconds though he sat up fully and pressed his lips to yours, before lowering you back down onto the mattress.  

You laughed as you hooked your leg over his hip and he pressed a kiss to your neck and then looked up at you and said, “I am not sure who, but some people just won a lot of money.”