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#Andrei C
itcars · 6 months
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Acura NSX 
Images by Andrew C || IG
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pyotrkochetkov · 5 months
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Andrei Svechnikov modeling the 2023-24 Whalers uniform
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psykopaths · 2 months
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Nostalghia, (1983)
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comphy-and-cozy · 8 months
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congrats on 1k, my love!! 💜
🦋 could we get something for 14. "Get on your knees" with andrei please?
cooked up somethin real nice for you tiff 🫶🏼
celebrate 1k with me
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Prompt: #14 “Get on your knees.”
Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), blowjob/face fucking, restraints, spitting, very brief cumplay
The sound of PNC Arena erupting is deafening, a sea of red and black surrounding you as the ever-familiar goal horn buzzes. Andrei’s arms raise in celebration, a fierce cheer leaving his mouth as his teammates pile into his arms for a famed Hockey Hug. ‘Raise Up’ blares through the speakers, instantly triggering a warmth in your heart.
As you watch your Russian skate toward the bench for celebratory fistbumps from his teammates, a different type of warmth fills your body as you think back to your conversation from just a few hours prior.
You were seated on the edge of your bed, watching Andrei select a tie from his collection in the closet. The navy blue suit clinging to his body is your favorite, and you were appreciating yet again how nice it looked on his figure.
“Which one, dorogoy?”
His question startled you, pulling you out of your daydream of stripping the suit off of him, briefly wondering if you’d have time to entice him for a pre-game tryst. You tried to act innocent, glancing at the two ties he held out in his hands, positioning them against his front to show the color match; the smirk on his face told you he’d caught you, though.
“Um…” you trailed off, forcing your mind to focus on the two colors: a pale, yellowish-gold or a rosy pink. “That one.”
Andrei’s expression was smug, his large fingers running along the yellow tie you’d pointed to. You watched him stroke the smooth fabric, seducing you with just the simple act of putting on a tie.
“There’s no time left,” he said, returning the pink tie to the hanger, “but I’ll make it up to you when I get home.”
Your cheeks heated, caught red-handed, and you glanced up at him sheepishly. “Is that a promise?”
“When have I ever not kept my word to you, prinsessa?”
Sure enough, when you hear the key turning in the lock on the front door, your heart thuds in your chest at the promise he’ll soon bring to a reality.
Andrei’s hair is still damp from his post-game shower, his suit back on his body like he hadn’t ever taken it off. He sets his keys on the counter and shrugs off his coat without a glance at you, not even acknowledging you sitting on the couch, still sporting your Canes t-shirt underneath your leather jacket. It makes you shiver, anticipation building before he even gets his eyes on you.
And then he does, catching your gaze with a confident smile, so wide his missing tooth is visible. His arms open then, and you jump off the sofa to hurl yourself into his arms for a celebratory hug.
“That was such a nice goal, Drei,” you murmur into his thick neck, squealing when his arms give you a tight squeeze.
He hums a ‘thank you,’ though the glint in his eye is nothing like the playful smile you expected; instead, he’s smirking at you, gaze predatory.
“Remember what I promised you?”
You nod meekly, eyes drawn to where his hands have raised to loosen the tie around his neck. He slides the silk fabric out of his collar, then raises an eyebrow at you. A silent command.
With a gulp, you present your wrists to him and allow him to tie the soft material around them both. Not too tight—loose enough that you could probably slip out if you tried—but just enough to restrict the use of your hands. Enough to send a message.
“Get on your knees, malyshka.”
Helpless to obey, you do as he asks, sinking to your knees with your bound hands in your lap. You look up at him, and resist the urge to groan when he shrugs off his suit jacket and unbuckles his belt.
Your insides melt when he fishes out his already erect length, pink at the tip and a small bead of precum perched on top. Tucking your lip between your teeth, you resist the urge to moan, instead listening obediently when he tells you to stick your tongue out.
“Good girl.”
Praise warms your insides, followed quickly by warmth between your legs when he taps his shaft on your outstretched tongue. The weight of it is delectably heavy, solid and firm and waiting to be lodged in your throat.
Andrei repeats the action, tapping until he slips just the tip past your teeth, brushing the roof of your mouth with a groan. Your tongue flattens against the bottom of his shaft, pressing against him as he experiments moving into your mouth.
The way he eases in is almost polite, gentle enough to make sure you’re good, at first. But once he knows you’re ready for more, his hips are moving faster, rougher, letting him lose himself in the wet cavern of your mouth.
“Fuck, dorogoy,” he curses, hand fisted into your hair while his eyes squeeze shut. “Your mouth is so good— so fucking good for me, babe.”
The crescendo of his pretty groans alert you to his impending climax, and soon your mouth is flooded with his cum, shooting against the back of your throat.
With another grunt, Andrei eases himself out of your mouth, tongue instantly missing him. But then his large hand is on your jaw, tilting it so you can show him the pool of his cum resting on your tongue.
He hums in approval, admiring the sight paired with the dampness of your eyes. “Krasivy.” Beautiful.
With another nod, he tells you to swallow it. You do, letting the liquid slide down your throat, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.
“One more, dorogoy,” he says, and you open your mouth again.
Andrei purses his lips, letting a string of saliva pour from his mouth, dripping onto your tongue. You feel it slipping back, the same sensation as feeling his cum slip back.
He hums again, appreciative of your obedience. Another nod, and you swallow.
Your Russian tucks himself into his pants before quickly leaning down to press a kiss against your lips. He helps you up, and when you think he’s going to unto your wrists, he gives you a grin.
“Oh, I’m not done with you, kisa.”
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rknchan · 1 year
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coming up with designs for characters i had never drawn before and sonya <33 just sonya
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smileysvech · 8 months
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beach bonfire with andrei svechnikov
this one is dedicated to my big sis, light of my life, genius, mastermind, bestie @comphy-and-cozy and goes with her new summer fic, every summer has a story! (18+ only please!!)
tagging: @pyotrkochetkov @mendeshoney @thewintersoldierdisaster @hoesforthecanes @senditcolton @thesvechnikov @barzysunflower @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 @laurenairay
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rathologic · 2 months
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realized p2 daniil and peter are only ever shown interacting in diurnal. intriguing. I see why daniil/andrey seems to have a slight lead at the moment
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framesdump · 2 months
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Stalker (Сталкер, 1979) Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky
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ulircursed · 1 month
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nightbird's song
andrei / leanne c support
The vial shatters in his hands, crimson dripping from his fingers like blood, trailing all down his arm. It burns, fire erupting from the liquid and engulfing his arm, until he reaches forward—
—plunging it into Lady Sister's heart, and the smile on her face freezes, but does not disappear. Her warm brown eyes seek him out—
('Lady Sister, I'm sorry—')
'It's alright. I never believed you were a good person anyway.'
Andrei awakens with a gasp, muted from his long months of habit, and stares at the ceiling above him, trying to calm himself by listening to the sounds of the other students' breaths around him. Lady Sister Brigid's voice remains in his mind, like a vice around his throat, his breath coming quicker, shallower until darkness threatens at the corners of his vision.
Before it could fully overtake him, Andrei sits upright in a fluid motion, drawing a cloak around him as he makes his way out of the room.
Making the long trek up the tunnels to the surface, one step in front of the other, his pace steady against the stone to keep his thoughts at bay as much as possible. Finally the long journey ends, and he emerges into the midnight air, where he takes a slow breath. Now that he is here, at the surface, he does not know where to go, this late in the night.
(He doesn't know what to do, either.)
Then, a haunting, almost mournful song pierces the silence, and Andrei stops mid-motion, head turning to what he feels is the source of the voice. The song is beautiful, certainly, but there is a sadness to it that draws him. Without thinking, his feet take him forward.
It takes a surprisingly long time to reach the tree where the song is coming from; the voice had carried much further than he'd thought capable. The song stops when he approaches the tree, and as Andrei looks up, he sees a young woman with snow-white wings, looking down in his general direction. She mutters at him (or at herself, he cannot tell) unintelligibly for a moment, before beginning to speak in a way he could understand.
"Hello, you are...?"
"...Andrei."
"Mm. I am Leanne."
"Leanne," Andrei echoes. Her wings make her look somewhat like an angel, even framed against the shadows of the trees above, though he thinks she might, more realistically, be one of the bird people like Naesala is. "What are you doing, singing in the night like this?"
Leanne tilts her head down at him as though he'd asked a silly question, but her expression quickly turns somber. She closes her eyes briefly, as though hearing a song of her own.
"You are... afraid."
What?
"What are you talking about?" Andrei demands, taking a step back, feeling accused of a crime.
"There is, hmm, fear, in your heart."
"There isn't," he growls out. What had he to fear from some bird girl? This is hardly where he'd envisioned the conversation going, and in an instant, he turns to leave, but Leanne calls out to him again.
"Oh, wait, wait...!" When Andrei grudgingly looks back up, he finds a sheepish expression replacing her earlier, serious countenance. "You... help me?"
He does not wish to do as she says, not after that, but she suddenly looks so helpless that he relents after a moment. "...What?"
"It is... very dark. I cannot see. You bring me to the... hmm, dormitories, please?"
The destination is pronounced with clear, slow enunciation, as though learned recently and diligently practiced. Andrei looks at the sky. The quarter moon glows softly in the darkness, illuminating the path below. "Have your eyes not adjusted to the dark?"
"No... You will help me?"
"...Fine, then."
"Thank you!"
And that is all the warning Andrei got before Leanne leaps from the thick branch she had been sitting on, directly towards him, wings slack with little indication that she means to break her own fall.
"!!" By instinct alone, the archer reaches to catch her, finding her surprisingly light as she tumbles into his arms, almost more like a child than the grown woman she looks the part of.
What is happening??
"Why did you do that?" Andrei demands of her, setting her down on her feet none too gently — oh, now she fluffs out her wings, fluttering gracefully a few inches back and looking much too pleased with herself. He'd seen Naesala's wings in the aftermath of the mission. Did they not break easily? How could she be so reckless in the face of an utter stranger?
"I was not afraid. I know, you will catch me."
It is the clearest sentence she'd spoken so far, words steady with a conviction that seems to pierce his very soul. Andrei stills, fighting an sudden, unexplainable rush of emotion at her statement... and Leanne takes this chance to slip her hand into his, looking at him with an undeserved trust.
"Dormitories, please," she chirps cheerfully, and Andrei gives a sigh, turning and allowing her to hold onto his hand as he leads her forward, back down the path towards the monastery.
"What is your house?" Andrei asks after a short silence. It doesn't appear as though the dormitories are separated by house, exactly, but having the distinction might make finding her room easier.
"Ah... Golden Deers!"
"...It's 'Deer'."
"Hmm?"
"The plural for 'deer' is still 'deer'. You do not add an s to it."
"But why?"
...It's just like explaining things to Patricia. Andrei takes a deep breath. "There is no reason. It is how the word works."
Leanne makes a thoroughly discontented noise in response, but remains quiet for the rest of the journey, merely the sound of her rustling feathers and the warmth of her hand in his denoting her presence.
"Here are the dormitories," Andrei announces as they reach the row of rooms, lit in faint torchglow for the nighttime stragglers.
Leanne's head swivels around as she gets her bearings, squinting in the darkness — is her vision truly so poor? — before her expression brightens as she points out one of the doors. "There!"
She looks back at him expectantly then, and, feeling obligated, Andrei leads her right to the doorstep, until she can reach her hand out, feeling around until she touches the knob. She turns around with a sunny smile. "Thank you, Sir Andrei!"
"...You are welcome," Andrei replies, stiff and automatic. Leanne's expression softens suddenly, and she leans in a little.
"You are... a good person. Do not be afraid."
Andrei's eyes widen. "I'm not—" The words burst out of him before he is even sure what he's negating, exactly, but Leanne only gives him one last smile, slipping through her door and closing it behind her.
He stands there for a long moment, silent and pondering, before turning away, towards the gradually lightening sky, feeling oddly as though a weight had been lifted off his chest.
Are all the bird people so... weird?
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junkyard-gifs · 9 months
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Mungojerrie being over-dramatic and pretending Mistoffelees totally kicked him in the face.
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Look, he is slain! Only the kiss of life will bring him back! Munkustrap? Rumpelteazer?? Anybody???
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Probably Andrey Glushchenko as Mungojerrie, Victoria Kanatkina as Rumpelteazer, Ivan Ozhogin as Munkustrap, and Alexander Babenko as Mistoffelees, Moscow 2005 (X).
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itcars · 7 months
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Porsche 911 GT3
Images by Andrei C || IG
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junglejim4322 · 1 year
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Solaris (1972)
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provokedgoalie · 2 months
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first tito, now kuzy?? I will start biting people responsible for this
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psykopaths · 6 days
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Solaris, (1972)
Dir - Andrei Tarkovsky
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comphy-and-cozy · 8 months
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🦋 19 with Andrei!!
this one was so fun, thank you!
celebrate 1K with me
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Prompt: #19 "It's called being soulmates bitch."
Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)
Word Count: ~700
Warnings: too much fluff (jk the limit does not exist).
When Andrei proposed, your life turned from a dream into a fairytale. You’d found your Prince Charming, and now you were lucky enough to spend the rest of your life with him.
The wedding planning was, naturally, a little chaotic and stressful, but you were having fun doing it with him by your side. He was patient, understanding, offering his opinions when you asked; otherwise, he just wanted you to have the perfect day, whatever that meant. 
Your shower was scheduled at the sweet spot just before pre-season began to ramp up but when most everyone was trickling back into Raleigh to gear up for training. The venue was beautiful, and your best friend and the other wives had done an incredible job planning and decorating for the Love is Sweet theme.
Andrei insisted on being there, adamant that he should be there to thank everyone for supporting you and for the gifts they were giving the both of you. Fortunately—unfortunately?—he’d also brought along a rowdy group of hockey players, fresh off the golf course next door.
“When are the games? We were promised there’d be games.” Martinook’s boisterous voice sounded from the back of the room, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Andrei shook his head at him, not wanting to disrupt the pleasant brunch.
The ever-experienced Heather Staal shot up, graciously saying, “You’re in luck, Marty, because we are about to start some games right now!”
She explained the rules to the games on the tables—the standard bridal shower games: a bridal bingo and a wedding word scramble. The boys were surprisingly invested despite the childish nature of the games, hooting and hollering when they’d sort out a word or check an item off their bingo board.
Once the games were wrapped up and prizes awarded—Seth was now the proud owner of a brand new ‘Ballet Slippers’ bottle of Essie nail polish—Heather stood up to explain the final game.
“We’ll need both our bride and groom up here for this one,” she said. “I’m going to read off a few statements, and each of you will raise the shoe of the person the statement applies to. You’ll need to each swap one shoe so you have one of his and hers. The goal is to answer them all the same, but we’ll leave some room for a healthy debate if you two answer differently.”
Heather ushers both of you into two chairs arranged at the front of the room, your backs to each other. You exchange shoes, and he turns to whisper lowly to you, “Game on, dorogoy.”
“Alright, first question,” Heather says. “Who said I love you first?”
A smile comes to your face, mind flitting back to the memory in question. Your left hand rises, raising his shoe in the air. The room claps, reacting to you and Andrei both answering the question the same.
The questions continue: who is the better cook?, who is most romantic?, who apologizes first after a fight?, who is more stubborn?, who brought up marriage first?
Based on the reactions from the guests, you and Andrei are doing well—so well, in fact, that you’ve yet to answer a question differently.
“Last question, you two,” Heather’s voice says. “Let’s see if you can go 10 for 10.”
The last question—who fell in love first?—brings another smile to your face as you reflect back on the progression of your relationship. Truly, it felt like you and Andrei were written in the stars, meant to find each other. Once you met him, it was all too easy to fall in love; it was something you did almost unconsciously, just like breathing. 
After another moment of reflection, you raise both shoes in the air, unable to decide on one or the other. The room once again bursts into cheers, and you turn around to find that Andrei, too, has raised both shoes in the air.
“Very impressive,” Heather applauds. “I don’t know what else to call it.”
“It’s called being soulmates, bitch!” Andrei exclaims with a grin.
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chillichats · 1 year
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ive been skimming all these posts about goncharov and i just realised i misunderstood one that talked about the ‘anchovy scene’... yall..., i thought anchovy was the goncharov/andrei ship name... (and ngl i actually really liked it because its kind of a mashup of their names in a nontraditional way, to match their nontraditional gay relationship)
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