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#GM X-body
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Oldsmobile SportOmega Coupe, 1981. The "sporty" version of Old's X-body pioneered the use urethane plastic fenders. It came standard with Pontiac's Iron Duke 4 cylinder engine or optionally the 2.8 litre LE2 V6 that was engineered specifically for the X-body, both driving through a 4-speed manual gearbox. The SportOmega was only offered for a year before being replaced by the ES variant
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silvcrignis · 6 months
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"Remember, a human comes out of a human because a human came in a human. Until we meet again."
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“You know how some people say every life has worth? Yours does not. You are useless & probably straight. I have no desire to speak to the heteros today. Get out.”
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uluvjay · 3 months
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Just stay- J. Drysdale
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Jamie Drysdale x fem! Reader
In which jamie begging you to stay the night turns into you asking him if he really has to leave.
Warnings?; suggestive, kissing, angst, cursing, self doubt, anxiety, crying, hardly proofread, sorry for any errors, this was originally going to be a cute fic but the ducks decided to break my heart so I’m breaking yours!, also we’re gonna pretend the ducks don’t play Tuesday so I can include z and mason!!
You whimpered as he kissed up your body, lips switching moving slowly as his teeth lightly nipped at parts of your skin along his path.
“Jamie..” you breathed, hands tangling into his hair as his breath fanned over your overstimulated cunt.
“Hmm” he mumbled into your skin as he kissed up to your waist, butterflies filling your stomach as his large hands come into contact with your thighs.
“I-I got to get going soon, I have a lab in the morning.” You spoke breathlessly as you did your best to pull his adventurous lips from your body.
“So?” He questioned, swollen lips finally parting from your body.
“Baby, the drive to campus is thirty-five minutes from here and the labs at eight am. Easier to leave from my place.” You spoke lowly as you ran a thumb across his rosy cheek.
He groaned as he snuggled his face into your stomach, large body positioned comfortably between your legs.
“Just stay.” He whined
“Baby as much as I love you I don’t wanna get up even earlier than I would if I leave from home.” You laugh lightly.
“I’ll drive you.”
“Jamie.”
“What!? Come on plea-no don’t get up!” He whined as you began to move from your position underneath of him.
“You have practice tomorrow morning, you won’t make it back in time.” You reminded him as you searched the sea of your mixed clothes on his bedroom floor for your underwear.
“If I drive slightly illegally, I will.” He groaned, flopping onto his back, naked body on full display.
“Jamie! I’ll be back here waiting for you once you’re done with practice, we won’t be apart for long.” You laughed, watching him amusingly as he got off the bed.
Making his way towards you, now dressed in boxers and ducks T-shirt in hand he grabbed you by the waist.
“Come on baby please, we can order a pizza and watch a movie.” He pleaded looking down at you with his bright blue eyes in fully puppy mode, lower lip slightly pouted.
“Jamie..” you spoke and while you didn’t like the smirk that overtook his face knowing he had won, the idea of getting to sleep in his arms would always sway you.
“You want me to order from the place down the street or the one a bit further?” He questioned with a lingering smile.
“The one down the street.” You grumbled trying to hide your smile.
“Okay-oh, here.” He smiled unfolding the shirt in his hand and pulling it over your head.
“Meet me in the living room after you clean up.” He leaned down pressing his forehead against yours before giving you a small peck.
“I love you, you know that?” You blushed, a hand coming to rest on his scruffy cheek.
“I know, and I love you more.” He gushed, eyes locked on yours.
You let out a soft hum before giving him one more soft kiss, “go order our pizza big boy, think we worked up quite an appetite.” You smirked, poking a finger into one of the marks you’d left on his chest.
He hissed lightly but it was mixed with a soft laugh as your bodies parted and he left a soft swat to your butt as you took off causing a loud giggle to break from you. The sound following him as he walked into the living room to order a pizza.
However he didn’t get very far as his phone began to ring and he found it to be his GM calling.
“Hey pat” he answered warmly despite the sudden anxiety brewing in his lower stomach.
“Hey son, um..look I’m really sorry to have to break this to you over the phone but um…Jamie we’ve traded you.”
Jamie felt as if the world around him was spinning, traded? He was being traded? And they had to the nerve to tell him over the phone.
“Jamie? You there?” The man on the other side of the phone questioned after a few beats of silence.
“Uh-yeah…sorry, um where am I going?” He coughed, swallowing back the quiver in his voice.
“Philadelphia..” Pat spoke quickly with a flinch at the scoff that sounded through the phone.
“When do I leave?”
“In two days, they have a game against Pittsburgh tomorrow, then a day off. They want you there by Wednesday for their game against the Canadians.” Pat explained.
“Okay, I’ll be down the arena tomorrow to get my things.” Jamie spoke lowly.
“Listen Jamie I really am sorry, you’re an excellent player it’s just that things aren’t working out..”
“Don’t worry about it, I mean it’s part of the job right?.” Jamie choked out.
“Right…Well I’ll let you go. See you tomorrow kid.”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Jamie puffed as he set his phone down on the couch in front of him before sitting down himself.
Every emotion ran through the boys head, was he not enough? Did he do something wrong? He’d never know but it didn’t stop the aching in his heart.
His eyes pricked with tears as he looked around his house, the place he’d made countless memories with you and his friends. At the thought of his friends he began to wonder if a certain loud brunette a few doors down knew about the trade.
“Baby? Are you okay?” The sound of your soft voice brought him out of his thoughts and as he looked up to find you in the doorway of the living room and that’s when the dam finally Broke.
“Woah, Jamie what’s wrong?” You rushed as you sat down next to the boy and pulled him into your arms.
“They traded me.” He whimpered into the comfort of your neck.
Shock filled your chest at his words, traded? Where? And when did he have to leave?, every question crossed your mind but you knew you couldn’t ask them. Not as you felt his warm tears on your skin.
“Oh baby I am so, so sorry.” You whispered as you ran a hand along his back.
You two sat like that for a while until his chest finally slowed down and his tears dried up. Pulling away from your chest his bloodshot eyes met yours, dark hair messy and stuck to his forehead while tear tracks were present on his pale skin.
“I have to be in Philadelphia by Wednesday.” He whispered.
“Philadelphia?”
“Yeah, amazing right?” He scoffed bringing a hand up to wipe away the stickiness on his face.
“Do you have to go in to the arena tomorrow?” You questioned quietly.
“Yeah to clean my stall and get my stuff, then I’ll be packing and on my way to the east coast.”
“I still have to figure out what to do with the house, I mean I sight the lease for a year and no-“ he began to worry but you quickly cut him off.
“Don’t worry about that, I got it okay? I’ll do my best to help you out from here. Maybe mason can move in or something for the time being.” You spoke trying to ease his nerves knowing the boy was currently sharing a place with Trevor.
“Wh-what does this mean for us?” He questioned quietly.
The question stubbed you, you loved Jamie with your entire being and you couldn’t bare thinking about not having him in your life but you hadn’t ever tried long distance before.
“I-I would like to try and stay together. I love you Jamie and I don’t want us to breakup just because you’re in another state. The school year is almost done and so is the season, we’ll be back together in a few months.” You spoke.
“I love you too and I don’t think I’d be able to survive without you, right now you’re all that’s keeping me together.” He admitted.
“We got this baby, it’ll be hard but we’ll make it through.” You whispered.
“Promise?”
“I pinky promise, you’re stuck with me forever baby.” You smiled as you linked your pinkie with the tired boys.
-
Tuesday you found yourself standing between Trevor and Mason as Jamie stood in front of you three with his hockey bag and suitcase.
“I guess this is goodbye?” He laughed but you knew there was no true humor in it.
“No, it’s a see you later. No goodbyes.” You heard Trevor speak.
“We’ll see you soon man, love you.” Mason spoke as he pulled Jamie into a hug.
“Love you too.” Jamie spoke as he hugged his friend tightly.
When they pulled away he was quickly brought into the arms of the tall New York native on your left, their hug just as tight as they shared a few words.
“I’m gonna miss you Jim, I’m glad I got to spend my first few years as your teammate.” Trevor spoke lowly and by his quivering voice you knew he was crying.
“Me too, you’ve been a lot of help throughout all my highs and lows Z. I’m glad we were able to share the ice together for so long. I love you man.” Your boyfriend said as he gave his dear friend one more tight squeeze and pulled away.
You already had tears streaming down your face by the time he got to you, his strong arms wrapping around you as you sobbed quietly into his chest.
You could hear the boys take a few steps back in order to give you the the tiniest bit of privacy.
“Are you sure you have to go?” You whimpered.
“Sadly I do baby.” He smiled down at you sadly, a hand coming up to wipe away your tears.
“You can’t just stay? Say fuck them and come home with me?”
“I’m so sorry baby, if I could I would have never put you through this. You don’t deserve it.” He choked out as his own tears began to fall faster.
“I love you so much Jamie.” You whispered.
“I love you more.”
You hugged him one more time before you heard the boarding for his flight being announced over the intercom and soon you were pulling away from each other.
“See you later?” You questioned.
“Yeah baby, I’ll see you later.” He smiled as he pulled you into one last kiss, the salty taste from your tears mixing in but neither of you cared.
He pulled away with one final peck and waved to the two boys behind you before he was turning around and walking towards his gate.
“I’m going to miss him so much.” Trevor spoke up from beside you.
“‘Me to Z, me too”. You nodded along as you three watched the love of your life walk towards his new life.
-
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mendeshoney · 8 months
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take me back to eden (part 1/2)
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A/N: well I had an idea about andrei and as per usual @pyotrkochetkov​ @smileysvech​ bullied supported me until it was finished. as you can see, this story is going to be posted in two parts, so keep your eyes peeled! title is from “take me back to eden” by sleep token
Summary: Andrei’s retired, Assistant GM of the Carolina Hurricanes, and a little lonely, so he decides to be a little like Edward Lewis. 
Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader
Part 1 Word Count: 22,144
Warnings: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, basically “pretty woman” with andrei, love at first sight(Ish), he falls first, she falls too, he falls harder, sugar daddy vibes, angst, fluff, smut, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex
September
The Premiere Suite at The Mark Hotel.
So…this was it. 
Immediately after swiping the key card and letting himself into the suite, he goes about unpacking. Quickly, he puts his belongings away in the bedroom of the suite, before moving back into the living area, heart pounding with every step.
He’d bought a bouquet of red roses along with a crimson red vase, and he stores the vase in a cabinet in the little kitchen first. He moves further into the room, setting the roses on the coffee table before grabbing the ice bucket and heading down the hall to fill it. When he gets back, he places a bottle of champagne in the ice bucket, and rests it beside the roses, accompanying it by placing two champagne glasses down next to the bucket. 
He heads back into his room, pulling out the little blue box from Tiffany’s in his leather duffle bag, tucking the box into the pockets of his pants, then heads back into the living area, examining the space.
This was enough, right?
Enough to prove that either he wasn’t new to this (which he was) or that he was capable of being a gentleman (jury’s still out), he wasn’t sure.
He’d never done this before, never had to, never needed to, and never thought to.
At thirty two, officially retired from hockey and now serving as Assistant General Manager of the Carolina Hurricanes, Andrei had his fair share of ex girlfriends, previous one night stands, former friends with benefits, and the like in his youth. He’d thought he’d been close to true love once before, but that crashed and burned in flames before he even realized he was standing in the ashes of the aftermath.
Too focused, he’d been told. He was too focused on hockey, on this sport, and it wasn’t enough, so she left. And now, he couldn’t exactly deny that she had been wrong.
Lately, he was far too busy and much less interested in anything other than working to even consider the possibility of anything more. Working for the team that had given him the chance to live out his childhood dreams was where his heart, mind, body, and soul were focused, and he poured his all into it every day.
But sometimes, some days, he could admit to himself that as much as he liked being alone, he did feel lonely in the quiet corners of his office and in the solitude of his bedroom. 
“You need a Pretty Woman,” his brother had told him almost a month ago.
“A what?” He remembers saying, balancing his phone between his shoulder and ear as he typed out an email.
“You know the movie? With Julia Roberts?” Evgeny said, as if that was supposed to mean something to Andrei. “The one mom used to watch all of the time.”
“The prostitution one?” He said, vaguely recalling it now. He mainly remembers trying to make as much noise as possible with Evgeny so his mother would relent and allow them to change the channel to watch cartoons or hockey.
“Da,” his brother had said, “It could be discreet, maybe a little more your pace.”
Andrei had all but rolled his eyes and shot it down, calling his brother an idiot before confirming that he’d be home for the holidays and hanging up.
Then two days later, he was out to dinner with a few of the players on the roster during a preseason dinner, and overheard a couple of veteran players on the team chatting with a newer player about helping him find a date to their eventual Canes Bash, the renamed organizational casino night. 
“It’s worth a shot,” one of the veterans, Mason, had said. “You said you’re out of options, that’s an option.”
The newcomer, Eli, looked extremely skeptical. “But isn’t that like…illegal? It’s basically prostitution.”
The veteran players had shushed him, leaning in closer and lowering their voices even though Andrei could still hear them. 
Eli was sitting to his immediate right, for fuck’s sake.
“It’s an escort service.” The other veteran, Olly said from his spot across from Eli. “They’re based out of Manhattan but have employees all over the country. They serve high profiled clients and work with the utmost scrutiny. You have to submit pay stubs to even prove you can afford one of their employees and both parties are required to sign an NDA.”
“Why does it sound like you’ve ripped that right from their website?” The rookie questioned, skepticism still present in his tone.
“Because maybe we’ve used it once or twice,” Mason shrugged. 
“You have?” Eli asked, and Andrei could tell he was starting to slowly lean into the idea.
“It’s simple,” Olly assured him. “When you register yourself on the website, you fill out an application and basically create an account with them. You have to sign the NDA before your account can be official. Then you submit your pay stubs and a copy of your ID or passport. If those clear, then they do a thorough background check on you, more thorough than a government job, even, and if you pass the background check, they send you a questionnaire to fill out that helps them understand what you’re looking for, but it also lets them know if they’re the service you’re looking for, or if you should take your interests elsewhere.”
“Yeah,” Mason chimed in. “If they believe they can help you, they ask for your availability where you’d like to meet, and then once you pick a city, day, and time, they set up a meeting place, all expenses paid by the service. It’s like a consultation.”
“What about the girl?” Eli asked. “Do I get to pick her?”
“They select them for you based on your questionnaire answers.” Mason said, “But they’ve never set us up with a bad pick.”
“Yeah,” Olly chimed in, smirking. “Remember the blonde bombshell I brought to the team Christmas party last year?”
Eli’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “She was an escort?!”
Olly and Mason shushed Eli once more, though no one else at the dinner table seemed to have been paying any attention to them.
Hockey players have certainly heard, and discussed, far weirder and far worse.
“Did you just watch ‘Pretty Woman,’?” Andrei had teased, and laughed at the stricken expressions on Mason, Olly, and Eli’s faces.
“Uh yeah,” Mason had said nervously. “It’s a classic.” 
Andrei nodded, “It is, it’s a great movie.” Then turned his body as if he was tuning into the conversation the head office was having to his left.
To be fair, he should technically be involved in this conversation anyway, since it is his job, but instead, for some reason, he keeps an ear trained on the rest of what the boys to his right are saying.
“Look, do you wanna go for it or not?” Mason asked, “If you do, I can send you a referral link, or you can just use my name when you apply. It speeds up the time between application and your first meeting.”
Eli made a hesitant noise. “I don’t know. What if I don’t like the girl they picked? I can’t bring a weirdo to the Canes Bash.” 
“That’s what the initial meeting is for.” Olly explained. “The consultation, remember? First visit is free, and then the only payments you have to worry about are for bookings once you get to the first date and beyond. If you like the girl, you tell her what you need her for, and if she agrees to work with you, you book everything moving forward through the website. That way you’re not spending money up front.”
“It’s no strings attached before you even solidify anything.” Mason said, then nudged Eli. “So what do you think? Are you in or what?”
There was a pause, and Andrei sensed Eli’s lingering hesitation, but still, the rookie persisted and said, “Yeah, why not? Fuck it. I’ll do it. What’s this thing called again?”
“Daughters of Aphrodite,” Olly said with a dreamy air to his tone. “Unofficially, that is. Aptly named, but it would obviously raise some eyebrows. So officially, their business name is Eden.”
That night, after Andrei went home, he found himself opening up his laptop as he lounged in bed, looking up “Daughters of Aphrodite” online. He’d found nothing but tellings and retellings of the goddess of love, so he took a chance and searched up “Eden” instead.
Sure enough, there it was. He hesitated all of two seconds before clicking into the website, and didn’t think twice about filling out the application. True to Mason and Olly’s word, he had to sign an NDA before his account could be created, and submit a copy of six months worth of paystubs, his identification, fill out paperwork to commit to and then actually go for STD testing, and when they asked if he’d been referred to the service by anyone to expedite his application process, he listed Olly’s name, figuring Mason probably would’ve lent his referral to Eli instead.
And now, three weeks later, here he was.
In Manhattan, at one of the most expensive hotels in the city, moving into a suite for the weekend.
About to have a consultation…with an escort.
If the consultation went well, his plan was to take this person to a nice dinner, and maybe go out for drinks afterward. Eden had footed the bill and booked the suite for the weekend in case they decided on other activities, but Andrei wasn’t going to hold his breath.
He still wasn’t sure if he was going to stick around, let alone if this other person would be interested.
As he looked around at his little set up, part of him felt like maybe this was too much, but he couldn’t just show up here with nothing. They had his pay stubs, knew his income, knew he was a high profile client using their services for a reason.
Sugar daddy. 
That was one of the things on his questionnaire, asking if that’s what he was looking to be. 
He hadn’t said yes, but surely it wouldn’t be inappropriate to provide his incoming date with…well, some sugar.
Besides, it was just roses, champagne, and the diamond tennis bracelet from Tiffany’s sitting in his pocket. 
Before he could start pacing, Andrei removed his tie and his blazer, resting it over the back of the chair at the desk in the room before loosening the top few buttons on his dress shirt, then unbuttoning and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. He raided the mini bar, pouring himself a shot of vodka, downing it, then pouring another larger serving, one he could sip at to calm his nerves.
He sat in the lounge chair, scrolling through his email to re-read the instructions one more time.
“...after checking into your hotel and arriving at your room, feel free to take your time settling in and getting comfortable. Once you’re ready, please text the code “5683” to the following number, and we will notify your date for the evening that you’re ready for them. They should arrive no later than twenty minutes after you send the directed code.”
Andrei felt a sweat start to break out on his back.
He texted the code not long after he finished unpacking, which was about ten minutes ago.
She could get here at any time, and it wasn’t until Andrei realized that, that he began to panic a little.
He had no idea what this woman would look like, no idea how old she was. He said he wouldn’t agree to anything more than a couple years older than him, and nothing more than ten years younger than him, so he knew she was somewhere in that range. 
But what if she wasn’t his type? What if he wasn’t her type? Even if he was a client, Eden made it clear that the girls were in control, that they had the agency, so what if she decided to break it off the second she saw his face? What if there was no chemistry? What if -
A soft pattern of three knocks on the door broke him from his thoughts, and he cursed to himself. 
She’s here.
Resting his glass on the side table near his chair, he gets up, strolling to the door and checking his appearance in the mirror before answering.
Not his best, but not his worst.
It’s a consult. He reminds himself. Doesn’t have to be anything more.
He takes a deep breath, flipping the deadbolt and twisting the handle, breath caught in his lungs as he opens the door and -
And…
And…
Fuck.
Oh fuck.
This…this is…
It has to be a joke.
There’s no way a woman this beautiful, a woman this perfect, is working for a service like this.
Now he understood why Olly got so dreamy when he said the service was called “Daughters of Aphrodite.” 
Because if this woman were anything other than a demi-god, daughter to the most beautiful creature in the world, he would surely think he was living in an alternate reality.
Fuck, the woman in front of him could be Aphrodite for all he cared.
God damn, ona krasivaya. She is beautiful. 
She should be on a throne somewhere, modeling on a beach, walking a runway, hell, in a house baking cookies for her husband and children because…because…
This woman should be someone’s wife. Someone’s girlfriend. Someone’s partner. 
Not an escort here in a ritzy hotel suite with him.
“Um…hi. Andrei, right?” 
He blinks.
God and her voice.
Your voice.
You.
Your…everything. 
No, it’s you’re, definitely you’re, because you are everything. 
“Shit,” Andrei hears you curse under your breath. “Um, ty Andrei Svechnikov? Vy govorite po-angliyski?”
He blinks again, like an idiot, because wow he was not expecting that, and now he’s harder than a rock in his dress pants. Granted, your pronunciation isn’t the best, but it’s damn near perfect, and he crumbles. 
“Yeah,” he hears himself say, mentally patting himself on the back for not letting his voice crack, “It’s me. I’m Andrei.”
You smile softly at him and he feels like his heart just jumps right out of his chest and lands at your feet, screaming “take me love me accept me please.”
“Hi,” you say. “It’s nice to meet you. Is now still a good time?”
He nods, too dumbstruck to say anything else. His whole body buzzes in response the more you speak to him, and he swears any second now a flying baby in a diaper is going to swoop in and stab him in the butt.
“Yeah,” he says after a second. “Now is still good.”
“Oh okay,” you say, nodding slightly. Then, when he doesn’t move, a soft laugh leaves your lips, a laugh that he swears sounds like little bells, and you tilt your head to the side. “May I come in?”
Idiot.
He laughs too, hoping it doesn’t sound too nervous, and nods, stepping to the side. “Yes yes, I’m sorry, please come in.”
You cross the threshold, passing by him and he gets a whiff of your perfume, the breeze left in your wake chilling him to the bone.
“Almaznyy,” he hears himself whisper, watching you wander further into the suite. 
Diamond. 
A living and breathing diamond.
He swears a string of curses to himself as he shuts the door behind him and flips the deadbolt, then thinks better of it and flips it back. No one else but him has the key to this room, and he doesn’t want you to think by flipping the deadbolt that you’re trapped here.
Although, he wouldn’t mind if you trapped him in here.
He follows after you, finds you staring at a photograph blown onto canvas on the wall just shy of the coffee table.
The coffee table currently holding your roses. 
Shit.
He rushes to the table, grabbing the bouquet and turning towards you. He catches the way your eyes roam over the canvas, over the flowers and shadows, and he smiles a little.
“Interested in art?”
You shrug absently with a hum, your eyes still locked on the photograph, a fond and knowing look on your face. “Somewhat. My mom used to paint, and my brother got me into art as well.” Your body turns toward him first, followed by your head as you say “I’m not quite as good, but I dr- oh.”
You pause, smiling widely at the roses in his hand, and Andrei takes a chance, stepping closer and eliminating some of the distance between you two. “These are for you,” he says, “As a thank you.”
“They’re beautiful,” you say with an awestruck smile, taking them and cradling the bouquet in your arms. “Thank you.”
This image of you would be seared into his brain for the rest of his life, he swears. 
“I have a vase for you to put them in, if you’d like.” He offers. 
“How considerate,” you say. It sounds teasing, but the smile on your face is sincere. He holds out his hand, nearly regretting it when you blink at it for a second, before your hand lands in his and - 
The electric bolt that runs up his arm when he finally touches you can’t be a coincidence.
Especially not when he looks at you, wondering if you felt it too, and judging by the shy look that suddenly crosses your features, you definitely did.
Not only that, but fucking hell your skin is soft.
So soft, better than silk or velvet. 
He has to contain his excitement when he laces your fingers together, and you give him a reassuring squeeze as he leads you to the kitchen. He pulls the vase out of the cabinet and starts to fill it with a little water at the sink while you lay the roses down, gently removing the twine and then the brown packaging from around it.
Andrei finds himself quickly reaching for your hands after putting the vase down on the counter, not wanting you to prick yourself on any thorns. 
“Let me please, almaznyy,” he says. You smile, eyebrow raised in confusion at what he’s called you - and god if he was going to survive this night he’d have to work to not make you do that as often - but you don’t move at all when he comes up behind you, keeping an inch between your bodies, arms on either side as he works the roses apart, inspecting the stems for thorns.
He didn’t pay anything astronomical for them, but they were a rare type of crimson red rose, and he paid enough to hope that they didn’t have thorns on them. 
Thankfully, they didn’t. When he raises his hand to lift a couple into the vase, yours move to grab a couple of more. Together, the both of you arrange the two dozen roses into the vase, and almost naturally, you let out a happy little sigh as you relax backward, body gently pressing against his.
It’s a ghost of a touch, but he can tell you fit perfectly against one another.
“They really are beautiful,” you say, then turn your head to look up at him, lips curving into another brilliant smile. “Spasibo.”
His heart spasms. 
That was five.
Five smiles in the span of about five minutes.
He was prouder of that than he was any record he set during his career.
With a smile of his own, he takes a step back, watching you turn and lean against the counter a little, and holds out his hand once more. This time you take it without a second thought, and follow him as he leads you over to the couch.
You both sit next to one another, you sitting a little sideways to face him, and he gestures to the champagne. “Would you like some?”
“Sure,” you say, and now all Andrei wants to do - on top of making you smile - is keep you talking.
He needs to hear more of that pretty voice like it’s the last he’ll ever hear on this earth.
As he expertly pops the top and begins to pour a glass, he asks “How old are you?”
It’s a jump from the first question - or questions -  he wanted to ask, the main one being “What is your name?” which he was told explicitly in his instructions email that he was not allowed to ask. 
The Daughters of Aphrodite could only offer their names to the clients if they decided that they wanted to - or if their clients had earned it - and the clients could not ask under any circumstances. It was part of the point that the women held the agency here. 
His other questions fell along the lines of “Are you married?” and “If you’re not married, are you available for a summer wedding next June?” Both of which he also did not ask.
He’d get the answer to all three eventually…he hoped.
“I’m twenty three,” you respond, accepting the flute of champagne from him. “My birthday was a couple of days ago.”
His heart hammers in his chest. 
Nine years. 
She’s nine years younger than you, his brain screams.
Eden sure cut it close with this one.
“Happy belated birthday,” Andrei says, turning a little in his seat to face you. As he does, the corner of the jewelry box in his pocket pokes his thigh. He reaches into it without a second thought, relieved when he brings it out and sees that the little white bow is still in excellent condition as he holds it out to you. 
“I didn’t know it was your birthday, obviously,” he begins, “But I saw this and wanted to buy it for you, so maybe it was meant to be.”
He winces internally at his choice of words, but then a bashful smile breaks out on your face, and you place your champagne flute down on the coffee table, taking the gift with gentle fingers.
Six smiles! 
Hell yes.
You pause before pulling the bow, looking up at Andrei with a little furrow in your brow.
His heart kicks in his chest, demanding to be let out, demanding to comfort you and ease whatever just made you pull that face. “What is it?”
“This is just awfully nice of you, and I didn’t get you anything.”
Two things run through his mind in that second and he’s blurting them both out before he can stop himself or think of any consequences. “I wanted to, you deserve it. And I don’t need anything in return.” then “Your other clients don’t get you anything?”
You fucking idiot. He curses himself. He didn’t even think of the fact that you’ve probably had other clients, that you’ve been around other men, and his blood starts to simmer, this unexpected feeling of jealousy twisting his stomach uncomfortably. 
But you don’t even blink, just shrug your pretty shoulders and say “Not really, no. Well, not at first maybe, not at the consultation.”
Okay.
He was not going to think about the fact that other men had gotten to have a consultation with you or that some had also made it past the consultation with you. He was not going to picture a beautiful being like you entertaining the likes of fuckers like Mason, or Olly, or Eli.
God.
What if you’d been with them? What if you knew Mason or Olly? What if Eli had already applied and maybe even gotten a consultation before Andrei could have? What if you had a consultation scheduled with Eli next? What if -
“And they usually don’t get me roses,” you add softly, fingers still brushing against the bow. 
“Then they’re idiots.” He deadpans.
You lift your head up at that, blinking at him, and he worries he may have upset you, but then you laugh, a little loud, melodic and sudden, and his heart soars.
“Open it,” he says gently, gesturing to the box with his chin. 
Your fingers finally pull the bow off and gently lift the lid, removing the carefully folded tissue paper to reveal the tennis bracelet nestled inside. 
It’s a platinum bracelet, designed to resemble vines curling around the wrist when fastened. Within the leaves on the vine are round brilliant and marquise diamonds, though he doesn’t think they can hold a candle to you. 
His actual diamond.
Almaznyy.
Almost as if the marquise diamonds can hear him, they twinkle a little in the light in protest at him when you manage to lift the bracelet from its little cushion.
He thought it was fitting - vines, Eden, garden of Eden.
Oh god, now he thought it was stupid.
Why would he think getting you a bracelet reminding you of your employment was a good idea?
“Oh, Andrei,” you coo.
And god if he doesn’t fall in love with you right then just based on the way you say his fucking name.
“Do you like it?” He asks.
You nod emphatically, looking up at him. You look a little dazed, the disbelief present in your eyes. “I love it, it’s beautiful. Would you help me put it on?”
“Of course, almaznyy,” he murmurs, reaching forward to take the jewelry from your hand. You hold your wrist out, and with nimble fingers he secures the bracelet to your wrist. He indulges himself a little by letting his fingers graze along the skin, before grabbing your hand again, lacing your fingers together and resting them on the couch cushion between you. 
“It looks beautiful on you,” he says truthfully, eyeing the way the bracelet sits on your wrist, how it looks so perfect next to his rolex, and how they punctuate your joined hands. 
“It fits like a glove.” You say, voice full of wonder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it in my life.”
The boost to his ego is instantaneous and he can’t help the smirk that crosses his lips before he smothers it with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.”
You smile, seven, eyes looking him over for a second. “Is that what you need me for? Someone to shower with roses and pretty jewelry?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and Andrei feels himself go red.
For a second he managed to forget about the circumstances surrounding your presence. For a second, he managed to convince himself this was your third date. For a second, he managed to convince himself you already belonged to him.
Not in a nefarious way. People never belonged to other people, he always believed that. 
But god dammit if he didn’t already belong to you. 
“I um,” he fumbles, doesn’t really know what to say.
You scoot closer, unlacing your fingers and resting your hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. “It’s okay, Andrei. I’m here for a reason, aren’t I? I just want to help.”
Well fuck.
Now he doesn’t want to tell you. How can he possibly tell you he overheard players on a team he’s supposed to be helping to manage talk about your company? And how could he say that he figured it would be a good quick fix to ease the loneliness he felt some days? 
Especially on the days when he realized most of his friends and former teammates were either getting married, already married, some with kids, and he still felt like he was lost in the ocean, treading water for some unknown reason, and that as much as he wanted that all for himself, he just didn’t have the time?
“If it helps,” you offer, “I can kind of guess.”
Andrei blinks. “You can?”
You nod, suddenly growing a little shy as you admit “I kind of Googled you?”
He laughs then, the small tension that had built in the room starting to break. “Oh? Find anything interesting?”
You smirk, dragging your hand down his arm and lacing your fingers back together. “I did. Admittedly I don’t do it with all of my clients, but your name sounded familiar, so I looked you up.”
“And?” He teases, leaning in a little. “Do I live up to Google’s expectations?”
You snort a little - so fucking cute - and a small smile graces your lips again as you try to find the right words to say.
Eight. Fuck yeah.
“You’re a busy man,” you begin, looking down at your joined hands. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. You might not be the general manager, but you’re someone that your organization trusts, and that puts you in a precarious position. Because you can speak to and for the team, and be the middleman between them and your administration in a way that hasn’t been there for them before. The team is your life, you spent your whole career there, so it’s understandable, but that doesn’t leave you much room for anything else. That must be pretty lonely for you.”
Andrei’s dazed, and a little fucking pissed that the most he’s heard you talk this evening is because you’re talking about him, and he makes a mental note with himself to change that as soon as possible. 
“You need company.” You finish, rubbing your thumb in comforting circles on the back of his hand, and Andrei feels the anxiety begin to seep out of his body. “I’m happy to give that to you, Andrei. Whatever that may look like.”
His eyes coast up to your face, skepticism in his gut, but your face is completely sincere, not a sliver of doubt or humor. He swallows, nodding. Instead of confirming your suspicions, he turns your hands around, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand now. “And you? What do you need?”
You blink at him. “Me?”
He nods again, “Yeah you, almaznyy. What made you want to do this?”
“Eden?” You clarify, and Andrei nods again, squeezing your hand gently. “Well, as you can probably imagine, it’s good money. It helped put me through college, since I was putting myself through school. I actually stopped once I graduated. I put most of what I earned into savings, and thought that would be enough to live a normal life while I worked a normal job. And I had that for a few months. But then I…” your voice trails off and your brow furrows again, like you’re trying to figure out how much to say.
You can tell me everything. He wants to tell you. I won’t judge, I just want to know. 
“I decided I wanted something different,” you finally say. “Something more, so I came back to Eden. They welcomed me back, and now they’re helping me make sure I get what I want.” 
“What is it that you want?” He asks.
You shrug. “What does anyone want these days?”
It’s cryptic, and Andrei doesn’t pry any further, no matter how badly he may want to. Instead, he squeezes your hand and asks “Well, what do you need from me?”
You raise a brow, surprised by his question. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, how can I help you? To get your something different?”
You smile a little, but it’s not like the others, so he doesn’t add it to the count. This one is more…considering. Like you’re assessing if the sincerity in his voice is actually there, or if he’s just playing his part. “You already are,” you eventually say. 
He watches as your eyes continue to examine his face, looking for…well, he doesn’t know exactly. But he’s content to sit there and let you do whatever you want. As far as he’s concerned, you can do whatever you want. And he also uses the opportunity to etch you into his memory, every inch of you, just in case. 
“But this is for me,” he says after a moment.
“I know,” you murmur with a smile before casting your eyes down to your joined hands. “And it helps.”
Nine. 
He swallows. “Are you lonely too?”
You purse your lips, shrugging. “Isn’t everyone?”
Cryptic again, but then you’re looking up at him, and there’s this…it sounds cliché, but there’s this twinkle in your eye, and he feels his pulse skyrocket in his veins. 
“Why the gifts, Andrei?” 
He feels his heart sigh dreamily when you say his name. “What?”
You gesture down to the bracelet on your wrist with your eyes, before flicking them back up to his face. “The bracelet, the roses. I love them, don’t get me wrong. But…why?”
Andrei shrugs. “It felt…” he searches for the right words. “Appropriate. I don’t know.”
There’s a look of consideration on your face. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
He shakes his head, suddenly…shy. He’s immediately transported back to his first year as a rookie, how uncertain everything seemed, and how lost he felt more often than not. He remembers stumbling through English, feeling awkward trying to get to know his teammates and make friends, to get people to like him.
He wants you to like him. 
He knows in his gut he’s pretty much got a crush on you at this point, which is insane, considering you met…maybe twenty minutes ago? Thirty?
And he doesn’t really know how these things are supposed to go…at all. When he tells you as much, you giggle a little, squeezing his hand. “That’s okay, we can take this slow.”
He nods. “Slow is good.” Then, “How about dinner? Would you like to have dinner with me?”
A dazzling smile crosses your features before you say “I’d love to go to dinner with you,” and he beams. 
Ten. Ten smiles and dinner. Hell yeah.
~
October
Andrei glances down at his phone, smiling at yet another picture of Luka, Evgeny’s newborn baby boy and his second child. He was born a few days ago, but given Andrei’s duties with the team, he couldn’t be there for Evgeny and Sara. 
He’d sent presents of course, and his mother had taken the liberty of sending Andrei hundreds of photos so far, and Evgeny clearly felt comfortable following in their mother’s footsteps, sending Andrei at least twenty pictures a day. 
Evgeny was just as bad when Mila, his two year old daughter, was born. Photos every day that eventually dwindled down to weekly, then monthly as she got older.
In the photo Evgeny had just sent, Luka’s chubby newborn body was swaddled in a blanket and donning the light yellow baby hat Andrei had sent them. 
Andrei: Milyy i tolstyy
Cute and fat.
Evegeny sends back an angry face emoji.
Evgeny: Ne nazyvay moyego rebenka tolstym
Don’t call my baby fat
Evgeny: pridurok
Dickhead.
He chuckles to himself before pocketing his phone, casting his eyes back up. 
He watches from the stands as the players skate down the ice, running through drills in preparation for the first home game of the season later this week. Right after that, they were immediately on the road, heading to play the Rangers over the weekend.
A weekend where he’d get to see you.
He grabs his coffee cup from the holder in front of him, taking a large sip as he catalogs every player, assessing for strengths, weaknesses, who needs help, who can work on what. He looks for the holes in their plays, looks for the ways they can improve, looks for anything and everything that the team needs.
“Skyler’s looking good,” Andrei notes. “Role of ‘Captain’ suits him.”
From beside him, sipping on his own coffee, Coach Brind’Amour nods. “Yeah, he’s enjoying it.”
Technically, he’s not Coach Brind’Amour anymore.
These days, he’s the General Manager, but Andrei’s known him too long and respects him too much to call him anything but ‘Coach.’
Skyler, Coach’s son, is about the same age as Andrei, but started with the Canes a few years into Andrei’s career. The two of them became quite close, but whereas Skyler’s career continued, Andrei’s had to stop. 
There wasn’t anything he could do about it now.
“What are you seeing?” Coach asks him, gesturing to the ice.
Andrei smiles a little. “Probably the same thing you are.”
“They’re a good team, need a little more work.” Coach confirms.
Andrei hums a little. “They’ll be ready.”
They both eye the banners in the rafters. 
2024 Stanley Cup Champions. 
2027 Stanley Cup Champions. 
2032 Stanley Cup Champions.
The last one makes Andrei feel a little bittersweet, and he tears his eyes away.
“They can do it again,” Andrei confirms. “We made sure the additions to the team would see to that, not prevent it.”
“Now you sound like me,” Coach teases. 
Andrei laughs, and shrugs. “You were right most of the time.”
“Most?!” Coach cries, incredulous. He shoves Andrei playfully, and they share another laugh before directing their eyes back to the ice. 
They watch the rest of practice relatively quietly, a few other people coming to sit with them now and again as practice goes on, talking to them about upcoming meetings, home opener preparations, player contracts, the list goes on.
Andrei contributes his opinion when he can and when asked, still getting used to his new role. A couple of times, Coach shouts something down the stands so the new head coach or the captain can hear, and even encourages - and manages to convince Andrei - to do it once as well, noting a spot that needs work with a couple of the defensive pairs.
After practice, he and Coach head into the locker rooms to talk to the new head coach and give the players some words of encouragement. 
At one point, he notices Olly looking at him from out of the corner of his eye, and when Andrei spares a glance at him, Olly looks away, almost like he didn’t think he’d be caught.
Strange.
On the way out, Andrei tells Coach he’ll catch up in a second before he stops by the player’s stall. “Looking good out there, Oliver.” 
Olly looks up, surprised to see him there. From next to him, Mason giggles, bending down to fiddle with the tape on his socks. “Thanks Svechy, I appreciate that.”
“You two feeling good about the home opener?” He asks, gesturing his chin to Mason and leaning against the wall next to the door.
“Yeah man,” Mason answers, eyes on his skates now. “Feeling great. You think we’re ready?”
“Did it last year,” he answers. “Looked great in pre-season. Who says hurricanes can’t strike twice?”
They both grin at that, and then Andrei nods at them, dismissing himself.
When he steps into the hallway, his phone buzzes with an email notification, and his heart nearly skyrockets out of his chest when he sees the subject line.
“Booking Confirmation Details - Eden Hospitality.”
He curses silently to himself, nearly jumping in the air when there’s a tap on his back.
It’s Coach, who laughs at Andrei’s red face, and Andrei quickly locks and pockets his phone. 
“Sorry Svechy,” he says, “Didn’t mean to scare you. You coming to the meeting upstairs?”
“Yeah,” Andrei says, sighing a little in relief that it was just Coach Brind’Amour. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Another long, nearly painstaking hour later, Andrei’s finally back in his office.
It’s a cozy space, not as large as the General Manager’s office, or the coach’s office, but it’s decent enough. There’s many photos of his journey with the Canes along his wall, and pictures of his family on the wall closest to his desk. His desk is L-Shaped, and it allows him to face his office door, a couch along the wall, two chairs in front of his desk, and a shelf and mini stall for his gear in the corner. 
Checking his schedule on the calendar on his computer, he’s instantly grateful to see he doesn’t have to do anything for another hour and a half, so he pulls out his phone and brings up his email, clicking into the confirmation from Eden.
“Thank you for choosing Eden Hospitality for your booking purposes!
Your reservation beginning this Saturday, October 17th at The Mark Hotel in the Premier Suite is confirmed. Please note that any and all reservation changes must be made within 48 hours of the arranged date. Proof of payment is attached to this email in a reviewable and downloadable PDF. 
We also wanted to confirm we received your latest copy of blood testing for STDs, and thank you for your compliance with our booking policies. As a reminder, this will need to be done prior to every booking request to ensure booking can be completed. Failure to comply will result in termination of your account with Eden Hospitality. Attached is also a copy of your companion’s recent blood testing, for your reference. 
Check in as per usual at the front desk, and feel free to either leave your bags with the front desk, or you can head on up to your room. Please feel free to text your companion to arrange a time and place to meet, should you wish to meet outside of The Mark Hotel.”
His heart catapults out of his chest when his phone buzzes in his hand with a new text message.
“Almaznyy,” the name reads, and a kilowatt smile crosses his features. He opens your text thread with one another, his smile growing impossibly large as his cheeks heat.
Almaznyy: You miss me that much, don’t you?
Andrei: Almost every second since I said goodbye to you last month
The dinner date had gone incredibly. Wonderfully. Stupendously.
(That last word was one Skyler had taught him.)
The chemistry the two of you shared was…literally off the charts. It felt cosmic, fated, almost, just so naturally right that Andrei drove himself paranoid the more he thought about it, because he wanted to know if you felt it too.
You had spent the night, but nothing intimate had happened other than the two of you holding hands as you laid on Andrei’s bed and talked for hours until you both fell asleep. When Andrei woke up, you were in the kitchen, freshly showered and changed and making breakfast on the stove, a fresh pot of coffee already brewed. 
Eden had held your bags at the front desk for you as per consultation protocols, since the Daughters of Aphrodite weren’t required or expected to stay past the initial consultation if they’d made their decision or come to an agreement with their client, but if they chose to stay, their belongings weren’t far away.
The fact that you had chosen to stay made him happier than you’d ever know.
You didn’t unpack like he did, but your things were in a weekender bag in the corner of his bedroom, and though he didn’t want to admit it - mostly because he didn’t want to get ahead of himself - he quite liked seeing your toothbrush next to his on the bathroom counter.
Almaznyy: Well maybe I missed you a little bit as well
Andrei: Really?
Shit shit shit, he didn’t mean to press send on that. He didn’t want to unsend it either, but now that it was out there -
Almaznyy: Yes really, I had a wonderful time with you
You sent a heart emoji with that last message.
A heart.
Alright, now he was just outright blushing, and he folded his arms onto his desk before burying his head in them like a lovesick fool. 
In fairness, he’d had a wonderful time too.
After eating the delicious breakfast you’d made, he took your hand across the kitchen island and offered to take you out to do whatever it was that you wanted. It felt appropriate, felt good, knowing he could do that for you.
You took him by surprise when you asked if you could go to the Bronx Zoo. He half expected something a little more…well, he wasn’t sure exactly, but the zoo hadn’t been it.
He complied, of course, and the two of you got dressed. You in jeans, a light sweater, and sneakers, and him in black jeans, a white long sleeved shirt, sneakers, and your new bracelet that you hadn’t taken off since he put it on. You both took an Uber there, and spent most of the morning and early afternoon wandering around, looking at every single animal exhibit, some of them even twice, and taking pictures along the way.
Andrei took more than a few…hundred…pictures of you on his phone. Most of them were candids, some videos of you looking at the different animals, making faces or cooing at them from the viewing windows, and others of you just…being around him. 
(He locked about ninety five percent of the photos in a private album on his phone, just in case.)
After that, you took him to your favorite lunch spot on the Upper West Side, and then to your favorite book store in the city. 
For dinner, he insisted on cooking for you, so you went to Whole Foods, giggling when he pushed you around on the cart as you grabbed all the necessary items for Beef Stroganoff. 
You helped him while he cooked, though he would’ve been much happier if you had just sat on the stool, looking as pretty as you did, sipping your wine and letting him just…cater to you. 
You praised him over the dish, in which he immediately texted his mother about afterward to thank her for insisting on teaching him at least that, to which she just replied “???”
That night, the two of you fell asleep talking again, your hands linked with one another under the sheets.
The next day, you played tourist. Checking out the Natural History Museum, the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, got lunch in Tribeca, and then went to the driving ranges at Chelsea Piers. You had dinner together at Prime Catch in Hell’s Kitchen, and spent the rest of the night talking again, until you both fell asleep, this time, with you in his arms. 
So yeah…it was pretty wonderful. It didn’t even matter that he didn’t get the chance to kiss you, he just had so much fun being with you, being around you, that he didn’t care about what happened next, or what didn’t happen.
It had been tough to say goodbye to you, especially when you left him with a little wave, a kiss on the cheek, and a “see you soon, Andrei,” but he managed to contain his excitement for the next time.
At least, until this very moment.
He composes himself, sitting back up and grabbing his phone.
Andrei: I had a wonderful time too
Andrei: What do you want to do this time?
He feels like a teenager again, waiting as the seconds pass for your response, and when it comes, he’s pretty sure he wants to squeal with excitement.
He doesn’t even know how to squeal.
Almaznyy: I’ll let you choose, where would you like to take me on a date?
~
This was definitely a date. 
Your fourth date, technically. And you said ‘date,’ so he planned for a ‘date’, but as he waited for you as the seconds ticked by, he was worried it wasn’t enough. 
He waited on a bench in front of the Met wearing a dark baseball cap, a gray sweater, bomber jacket, jeans, and sneakers. It was a little chilly out in Manhattan, so he held two of the small, blue signature New York coffee cups in his hands, one with coffee for him, the other with hot chocolate for you.
His knee bounced up and down with nerves, eyes scanning the crowd, looking for any sign of you approaching. 
Eventually he sees you emerge, a large scarf wrapped around your neck, covering up your white knit sweater. You’re wearing black jeans and sneakers, your little black bag on your shoulder and in your hand are…
Two blue signature New York coffee cups.
As you get closer, you spot him on the bench, glance at his hands, and then the both of you are laughing by the time you reach him.
“Great minds think alike.” You tease, sitting next to him. “Is that hot chocolate for me?”
He nods, gesturing with his chin at the cups in your hand. “That coffee for me?” 
You nod too with a smile, and he shakes his head. “That’s some serious telepathy.” 
“I’m pretty sure most people call it chemistry.” You tease, “Here, you drink the coffee I got you, and I’ll drink the hot chocolate you got me.”
You place the excess cups next to you, then exchange the designated cups. He watches as you take a sip of your hot chocolate, smiling when a happy sound crosses your lips. 
“How are you, almaznyy?” He asks, reaching a hand out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his hand dropping to his lap unceremoniously.
“Good,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours. “And you, Andrei?”
“Good,” he nods, “A bit busy, but good.”
You nod, taking another sip. “You have a game tomorrow night, right?”
“Mhm,” he manages through a sip of his own coffee. “Have you ever been?”
“To Madison Square Garden? Or to a hockey game?”
He shrugs. “Both.” 
“I’ve been to both,” you say honestly. “Couple concerts and I think two games?”
“Would you like to come?” At his question, you turn your head to look at him, surprise lining your features. Andrei just shrugs. “I’d be upstairs working for most of it, but I know a guy, if you want to go. ” He adds with a small smirk.
You hum, tilting your head to the side a little. “If you’d like to have me there, sure.”
“Would you want an extra ticket or two to bring friends?” He offers. 
“If you can swing it, and if it’s not too much trouble,” you say. “I think my roommates know someone on the Rangers, so they’d probably like to come.”
“You just let me know how many people, and I’ll take care of it,” he swears, leaning closer as a breeze comes by. 
You bury your nose in your scarf, shivering a little, and Andrei frowns. Immediately, he’s putting his coffee down beside him and pulling off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. When the fabric rests on you, you turn to look at him, a warm smile on your face.
“You sure know how to woo a girl, don’t you, hotshot?” You tease, then reach for his hand, squeezing it. “Thank you.”
“Of course, almaznyy.” He says, squeezing your hand in turn, resting your joined hands on the bench between you. You’re both silent as you finish your initial drinks, and now that your other drinks have gone cold, Andrei tosses them both in the trash nearby before standing, tugging on your still joined hands a little to get you to come up with him.
You take him by surprise when you stand, releasing his hand and wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your nose in his chest. His hands are immediately falling on your back, rubbing up and down in a soothing pattern. “What is it?” He murmurs.
“Missed you a little, I guess.” You say honestly, voice slightly muffled by his sweater. “I had a lot of fun last time.”
“So did I,” he admits. “I missed you a lot, too.”
You hum, the noise vibrating against his chest. “What are we doing here?”
Andrei looks up at the Met, then back down at you. “You said your family liked art, and you told me that you liked to draw. I thought…” his voice trails off as he hesitates. 
Was this too personal? 
“Thought what?” You press, gently rubbing his back. 
“Thought you might like to teach me a thing or two. About art.” He eventually says. When you look up at him, there’s an iridescent beam and goofy but excited tilt in your smile, and his heart hammers in his chest.
You gave him that smile a lot last time.
He was more than thrilled to see it again. He didn’t think he should start counting them, not this time, but he definitely would keep this one in his pocket for later.
Gently, he untangles his arms from around you and grabs one of your hands in his, squeezing once. “Ready to go in?”
You nod, still smiling from ear to ear as you trail after him into the museum.
~
Almaznyy: In the lexus level suite with my friends
Accompanied with the text is a selfie of you smiling from ear to ear in a Hurricanes beanie, his bomber jacket, and a Carolina Hurricanes hockey jersey underneath. You’re holding up the peace sign, the bracelet he gave you twinkling in the light.
Andrei: On my way 
He grabs two security guards and an MSG employee, asking if they can escort him down to your suite.
They guide him quickly through back halls and to an elevator, where after a short ride, he arrives at your level and is promptly escorted to your suite, where they fuck off to the other side of the hall so he can have some privacy.
He opens the door to a barrage of giggling that almost immediately ceases when he steps in. 
Your eyes lock on one another almost instantaneously and it’s like his world narrows down to just you.
He’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact you said you wanted to be here, that you were excited to be here and share this with him. 
Your friends are sharing knowing looks with you from where you’re all standing at the buffet spread, but you ignore them, offering Andrei a soft smile and almost immediately going to embrace him, wrapping him in a tight hug as you murmur a “hi” into his chest.
Andrei laughs, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring his own “hi” into your hair as he wraps his arms around you.
It’s been less than a few hours since he’s seen you last - having left you at The Mark earlier in the day so he could prepare for the game, and you headed into the West Village to join your friends in getting ready for the evening - and he still felt your absence like a gaping wound in his chest.
When you pull away, you take his hand, leading him over to your friends.
“Girls, this is Andrei, my boyfriend. Andrei, these are my friends Tiffany, Katie, Cee, and Maya.” 
His whole world screeches to a halt as one word rings in his ears.
Boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
“H-hi,” he stutters, “Nice to meet you.” He holds a hand out as he greets each of your friends, who greet him in turn.
“Thank you for letting us tag along,” Maya says.
Cee tacks on “We really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” he says, brain still playing catch up.
Did he imagine it? Or did you definitely call him your boyfriend?
“It was nice of you to get this suite all for us.” Tiffany adds, eyes darting around the space that’s definitely meant for at least a dozen people.
Katie nods in agreement. “We hope it wasn’t inconvenient.” 
Andrei shakes his head. “No, it was my pleasure. Is everything okay so far?”
“Fantastic,” you assure him, then turn to your friends. “Can you guys give us a minute?” 
They all nod, sharing knowing looks once again before grabbing their plates and drinks, heading toward the front of the suite and out to the seats, getting ready to watch warm ups.
You turn to Andrei then, a sheepish smile on your face. “I’m sorry that I introduced you as my boyfriend, they just…my friends don’t know that I work at Eden, or what I do. They still think I work at my last job. I thought it would be easier.”
His every instinct says he should frown, or that he should be sad, but he also understands.
And also really, really likes the way you make the word “boyfriend” sound. 
Even more so, he likes the way it makes him feel.
But…in reality, he’s not that, no matter how much he would like to be.
Or at least, he’s not that yet.
“It’s okay,” he says. “I get it, it’s alright.”
You scrunch your nose. “Are you sure?”
Andrei shrugs, “I mean I would do the same if I was in your shoes.” If I knew your name, he wants to add, but doesn’t. Would that be okay with you?”
You give him a shy smile and nod a little. “Yeah, that would be okay.”
He feels a little out of place then, but then his eyes coast down to the jersey you’re wearing beneath his bomber jacket. He tugs on the logo at your torso, gesturing with his chin. “Where’d you get this?” 
“Made a stop downtown at the NHL store after you left earlier,” you say, offering him a cheshire grin. “Picked it up.” 
His eyes narrow playfully. “Who’s jersey is it, almaznyy?”
You shrug, tugging the bomber jacket closer, covering yourself up a little. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see later.”
Andrei makes a move like he’s about to scoop you up, when there’s a knock on the door and one of the security guards he came down with pops his head in. 
“Sorry to interrupt, but they’re calling for you in the locker rooms, Mr. Svechnikov.” 
“Give me a minute and I’ll be right there.” He promises. The guard steps out, shutting the door, and this time, Andrei does scoop you up, and you laugh gleefully, throwing your arms around his neck as he spins you around.
When he puts you down, he bends his head to tell you to have fun, to text him if you need anything and that he’ll come see you during intermissions if he can.
But then you take him by surprise, dragging your arms from his neck, trailing them down his chest, and gripping his tie in one hand, yanking him down the rest of the way as you rise up on your tippy toes and kiss him.
You’re kissing him.
This is your first kiss.
Yebena mat'. Holy shit.
It takes his brain a second to catch up and for his body to follow suit, but when it does, he’s got his hands on your waist and he’s pulling you closer, pressing his lips against yours firmly as he follows your lead, his entire world flipping on its axis in the process.
He doesn’t want this to end, has never been less interested in a game of hockey, ever, in his life, because all he wants right now is to take you straight back to The Mark and kiss you till the sun comes up, kiss your lips, your neck, your collarbone, trail those kisses down your stomach and -
You pull away, eyes glazed over a little and still lingering on his lips. On instinct, Andrei licks them, and your eyes flash, tracing the movement of his tongue.
“I um…” You start to say, but Andrei leans down and kisses you again. It’s chaste, not nearly enough of what he wants to do, but it’s enough for now.
“I know,” he murmurs. Because he does. “Later,” he promises.
Based on the look in your eyes, you know he’ll keep it.
~
It’s later on during the game that Andrei feels a tap on his shoulder, and he tears his eyes away from the ice, looking to where Coach is pointing. 
It’s the jumbotron, and there’s some kid dancing free and wild, people in the stands cheering him on or dancing along with him, but behind him, Andrei’s attention is stolen.
Because there you are, dancing with your friends, looking so wild and free, and a smile creeps up on his face. Then, that’s when he spots it.
Your jersey.
The seven evident on one arm, the three on the other. 
Your friend Maya grabs you and makes you do a little twirl, and then the “SVECHNIKOV” emblazoned on your back is on the screen, and the camera zooms in tighter on the child, blowing up your image along with it. The Canes fans cheer at the sight of his jersey, some people even standing, and it does something to his insides.
His jersey.
You’re wearing his jersey.
And he never cared about shit like that before, not really. Most of the wives and girlfriends never actually wore their husband or boyfriend’s jersey unless it was for some charity event or a coordinated effort in the playoffs. 
And you’re not his wife, or his girlfriend (yet), but he suddenly feels…
He feels completely less lonely. Feels less like he needs Eden’s services, and more like he just needs you.
Andrei feels like a boyfriend. A proper one. Yours.
“They still love you, buddy.” Coach Brind’amour says, and Andrei laughs, playing it off.
“That’s cheating,” he admits, gesturing to the screen, where they finally move onto another person. “That one was mine.”
Coach’s eyebrows raise a little. “The girl in the jersey?”
He nods, suddenly sheepish. He did say he was going to introduce you as his girlfriend, and you said you were alright with it, so he tells Coach “Yeah, she’s mine.”
“Well shit, Svechy.” Brind’amour teases. “About damn time.”
Yeah, he thinks to himself. I know.
He pulls out his phone then, shooting off a text.
Andrei: You little sneak
The three dots pop up, then disappear, then pop up again before your message comes through.
Almaznyy: You like it? 
Andrei: I never thought I’d say this in my life, but I’ll like it better when it’s on the bedroom floor
Almaznyy: I think that can be arranged
~
Andrei’s bouncing off the walls with anticipation as the elevator ascends to your hotel suite.
The Hurricanes won the game, and while he’s excited for the team, he’s also pretty fucking excited for himself.
It’s like your kiss broke the dam within him, destroying all of his restraint and hesitation. He’d been shaking with anticipation as every second passed between the second he left your suite to the very second he’d been able to get back to you once he was done playing Assistant General Manager. 
That’s something he’d never thought he’d say in his life.
He was fucking ecstatic to have this job, to be given a job for the team he’d stuck with since day one, a team that had given him everything. 
But this? You? 
This felt like a once in a lifetime kind of thing, and he wasn’t going to waste another second away from you.
A part of him felt bad about you saying goodbye to your friends so early, but this was his time with you.
Technically, as twisted as it made him feel, he paid for it…so…
When he finally unlocks the door to the suite, you saunter inside ahead of him, stripping off your shoes, socks, his jacket and your beanie, dropping them to the floor. His heart pounds harder in his chest, watching as you turn your head over your shoulder just slightly, enough so that he can see the mischievous smile on your face before you unbutton and unzip your jeans, dropping them to the floor and stepping out of them, sauntering ahead toward the bedroom with a flick of your hair behind you.
“Yebat’,” he groans out loud. Fuck. 
The sight of your bare thighs hidden beneath his jersey is the last thing he sees before you round the corner, and the image of those thighs wrapped around his head tents his pants in a second and propels him forward, stripping off his tie and suit jacket and kicking his shoes and socks off as he goes, leaving them in the same trail as your belongings.
When he gets to the bedroom, you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, all jersey and bare thighs, and the smile that spreads on his face is wide and bright.
“Posmotri na sebya,” he murmurs. Look at you. 
He steps in front of you, inches between you now, and takes in the way your eyes track him as he gets on his knees, placing his hands beside you on the edge of the bed and leaning forward.
You spread your legs a little to let him settle between them, and Andrei closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours as he shuts his eyes, losing himself in the feel of you. He feels your hands drift up his chest, gathering the material of his shirt and pulling him closer.
He feels your thighs bracketing his torso, then they’re wrapping around him, ankles locking behind him and he bites down on your lip a little, a small pleased sound leaving your mouth that reverberates in his body.
“C’mere,” you say between kisses, and he rises up, places his hands under your thighs as he moves the two of you up the bed, resting you against the pillows and slowly placing his weight on top of you.
“Almaznyy,” his own voice sounds far away to him, probably because that’s where he feels like he is. 
He feels like this is too good to be true, like this is all a dream and he’s going to wake up any second and feel like the last month that you’ve been in his life has all been an illusion.
Everything’s moving so fast, and he just…he’s suddenly worried that you might not be on the same page.
It makes him pull away, just a fraction, and you make a small noise of protest, trying to pull him back to you. 
Andrei smiles, catching your hand and kissing it. “It’s okay,” he says. “I just…” He pauses, swallowing past a lump in his throat.
You tilt your head, taking in his expression. “What is it, Andrei?” 
He shakes his head - partly out of disbelief that this is happening, and partly because he’s worried this is all in his head. “I don’t want to do something you don’t want. I don’t want to do anything if you don’t want it too.”
“Andrei, Andrei look at me.” You implore, framing his face with your hands. “I’m here, with you. Not because I have to be, not because of this job, I am here with you at this moment because I want to be, okay? I want this. I want you.”
It’s exactly what he needed to hear, but suddenly the words are too much to bear, it feels like something he doesn’t deserve. 
“What do you need?” He pleads. If he can know what you need him to do, maybe he’ll feel better about deserving this moment with you. “Tell me what you need here, what you need tonight, what you need from me. What can I do, almaznyy?”
“I just need you,” you coo, pulling him back down to you for another kiss.
“Is that all?” He presses, resisting for just a moment to look you in the eyes, so you can see him, so you can understand.
He’s asking about tonight and beyond, asking about what he can do to help you get what you need out of this arrangement, to make this more than a contractual obligation.
“Just you, Andrei,” you repeat, meeting his gaze straight on.
“If we do this…” he begins. “If we do this, then…”
“I know,” you insist. “I still want it. Do you?”
Andrei shakes his head, smiling at you. There’s…he can’t put it into words. 
The draw he feels to you is…otherworldly. 
And you’re beneath him now, in his jersey, his last name on your back, four dates under your belt, and you’ve got the most insane chemistry together, and he already likes you so much that he worries it would scare you if you knew how badly he’s wanted you since that very first second.
“You don’t get it,” he insists, bending his head a little, rubbing his nose against yours gently. “The things I want…if we do this…” he says again, finding your eyes. “If we do this, there’s no going back. Do you understand? If I touch you, I can’t go back.”
You nod, “I know. I don’t want to go back.”
You’re still not answering his question, not really, and he knows that.
“You can tell me you know,” Andrei breathes out, still a little dazed that this is happening. “You can tell me anything.”
You smile at him, nodding and murmuring “I know,” before pulling him down to kiss you again, and he feels it, feels the way you try to communicate to him through your lips, pressing your body against his, that this - here and now - is mutual.
And that’s going to have to be enough. 
This time, there’s no more waiting, no more hesitating, and he kisses you back full force, pressing his hips to yours and pushing you into the mattress. His hands wander up the jersey, feeling the lace material at your hip and on your ribs and he needs to see it. 
You must read his mind, because you’re reaching between the two of you and grabbing at the jersey, pulling it up and over your head, and all Andrei sees is black lace.
His cock throbs painfully against the zipper of his pants, and he meets your eyes for just a second, asking permission, and you’ve barely nodded before he’s bending his head, sucking the skin of your exposed breast into his mouth and groaning at the taste of you, the feel of your skin beneath his tongue.
You gasp a little, back arching and he winds his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer as his name crosses your lips in a dreamy sigh.
“Say it again,” he demands, dragging his teeth over your skin as he switches to your other breast, pressing his palms against your back. “Say my name again, almaznyy.”
“Andrei,” you breathe out without hesitation, “Feels so good.”
He sucks your skin into his mouth, flicking his eyes up to gauge your reaction, and when he finds you already looking at him, his pulse skyrockets, and your hips move, grinding your core against his clothed abdomen.
Freeing one hand from behind you, he brings it forward and between your bodies, trailing his fingers over the lace and down toward your core, pressing gently against the lace, a moan escaping his throat before he can stop it when he feels how wet you are.
“This for me?” He murmurs quietly, trailing his tongue in the valley between your breasts, playing with the hem between your legs.
You nod, breath coming out in heated pants. “Only you, Andrei. Just you.”
Only you.
Just you.
He lets those words ring in his ears, lets the syllables settle in his bones and cloud his mind when he presses his fingers at the fabric and tears, ripping the black lace thong from your body before stuffing them in his pocket and shuffling down the bed.
You’re sitting up on your elbows, looking down your body at him as he parts your thighs, his large hands digging into the flesh as his eyes take in the one place he never imagined he’d be lucky enough to see in his life. 
“Trakhni menya,” he nearly croaks. Fuck me.
Your glistening pink heat stares at him, inviting him closer, calling to him, and he answers the call without a moment’s hesitation, leaning forward and burying his face between your thighs, dipping his tongue into your dripping center and sucking.
The sound of his lips and mouth working against your pussy fill the bedroom quickly, obscene and loud noises echoing off the walls. He eats you unabashed, unashamed, and unrestricted. You thrash against his mouth as pleased moans and whines escape your throat one after the other.
Your hands fly into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp and tugging the tresses between your fingers, pulling him closer and pushing him away all at once. His lips barely detach from your skin when he pulls away to take a breath, not wanting to be too far from his current task, not wanting your skin and your taste so far from him ever again.
He sucks your clit into his mouth and your back arches, nearly tearing your hips away from him and he moans out a little displeased sound, pulling you closer and bracketing his arms across your belly, keeping you locked against his mouth. 
“Andrei,” you pant again, desperation in your tone, “Please, please I’m so close.”
He quite likes the sound of you begging.
“Come,” he commands, murmuring against your clit. “Come for me, I want to taste you.”
He sucks your clit into his mouth, hard, and he keeps his eyes on you, your face, and your body, gauging for the little tells he wants to memorize, store in his memory for the next time he gets to do this with you, and the next, and the next, and the next.
You go silent all of a sudden, heaving breaths stopping as your orgasm hits and your mouth falls open in a silent cry, brows furrowed and eyes shut tight while your grip in his hair tightens, thighs bracketing his head as your body shakes through your orgasm. The taste of you floods his mouth and he groans in delight, savoring every drop happily as he continues to lick and suck until you’re all but forcing his head away, giggling and delirious.
“Andrei please,” you breathe, “Please just come here.”
He obeys, crawling up your body until he’s close enough and he bends his head, accepting your kiss and massaging his tongue against yours, sharing your release. He lets you unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders, lets you pull his shirt over his head before he unhooks your lace bra and tosses it aside, and then you’re completely bare for him.
“Let me see you,” he pleads, sitting up and back on his haunches just so he can look at you.
You preen under his gaze, back arching slightly as you stretch, a cheshire grin crossing your features as his eyes roam over you, trying his damndest to commit the sight of you to memory.
“Ty takaya krasivaya,” he praises. You’re so beautiful, allowing his admission to linger in the air and one of his hands to wander up your calves, your thighs, before it settles on your waist, the other hand unbuckling his belt with deft fingers.
“Spasibo,” you say almost shyly, sitting up and then reaching out, unbuttoning his dress pants and then lowering the zipper.
The corner of his mouth ticks up, his expression curious. “What did I say?”
He watches with bated breath as your hands dance on the waistband of his boxer briefs, and one of your shoulders lifts in a small shrug. “I think you called me beautiful,” you respond, eyes slow as they drag up his body and toward his face.
Andrei leans down, playfully suspicious when he says “And how did you know that?”
You shake your head, dragging that beautiful bottom lip between your teeth before bringing your eyes back down, dipping your fingers into his waistband. “Lucky guess.”
Andrei doesn’t believe that for a second, but his protest dies in his throat the second your hand dips into his underwear and wraps around his cock, grip firm as you tug a little at the base of him. 
A loud but pleased groan echoes out of him and his head tilts back, nearly going cross eyed as you tug again, and his hand shoots out, circling your wrist gently as he shakes his head. 
When he manages to focus again, he raises his head and looks down at you, the furrow in your brow and pout of your lips damn near breaking his heart.
“Did I not do it right?” You ask, concern lacing your tone.
He reaches a hand out, thumb smoothing the furrow in your brow before dragging over your lower lip. Your tongue darts out, licking the pad of his finger before you gently suck his thumb into your mouth, and chert voz'mi, damn it if his cock doesn’t throb painfully in your grip.
“Almaznyy, I don’t think there’s a single thing you could do to me that wouldn’t be absolutely right, or feel fucking amazing. But I need this first time with you to last more than forty five seconds, okay?”
Understanding crosses your features, and a pleased smile makes its way onto your lips. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed, almost surprised, and it baffles Andrei right back.
How could you not possibly know how you undo him? How could you not know that you rattle his very existence in the best way? He feels like it’s so obvious now, like there’s no way he’s been playing it as cool as he’s believed this entire time. 
He smiles at you, voice teasing when he says, “Yes, ‘oh,’ almaznyy. It’s you, it’s what you do to me.”
“You do it to me too, you know.” You say. The response is almost immediate and your words go right to his heart.
Again.
He rises from the bed then, dragging his pants and boxer briefs down his legs before he kicks them off to the side, then he’s climbing back on the bed and settling between your legs. Your hands frame his face once more when you pull him to you for a kiss, a kiss that quickly turns from innocent and reassuring to desperate and needy, soft and open mouthed as his tongue massages against yours, you opening up beneath him almost automatically, like you’ve done this together a dozen times before.
There’s a moment where he expects to be jealous, to think about the times you could’ve been like this with other people, but the moment never comes. 
Because deep down, and based on the way your body comes alive under his touch, the way you respond to him, the way the two of you move like your bodies know each other inside and out already, Andrei knows, he just knows that neither of you have ever experienced something this perfect in your entire lives. 
“Condom?” He asks between kisses, trying to work through his mental checklist. “Do you want me to put on a condom?”
You barely even hesitate when you say “No, I’m clean. I know you are, too. I want to feel you. Is that okay?”
God. “It’s more than okay, almaznyy,” he assures you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I want the same.”
His cock slips against your pussy where you’re soaked for him all over again, and you both moan, grinding against one another as you make out until the need for one another just becomes too much to bear.
“Ask me,” he says, nearly begging. Because as right as this is, he still needs to know that you want this too, and that he’s not just imagining things. “Ask me for it.”
Your voice is syrupy when you ask “Please Andrei, please put it in. I want you so badly. I want you, just you, Andrei, no one else and I - oh my-” 
Your words are cut off as you gasp on an inhale, mouth open in another silent cry as your back arches, hips tilting just so that Andrei has to focus, has to keep his hips still as he focuses solely on the way you flutter around him and squeeze as he pushes in just an inch. The look on your face, the way your body reacts has him nearly roaring with satisfaction, with pride, his mind going blank as two words run through his brain on a loop. 
Ona moya, he thinks. She’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.
You’re his. You belong to him, and he belongs to you. There’s nothing else in this world that makes sense.
“Breathe, almaznyy,” he pleads, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “Need you to breathe, need you to tell me if it’s too much.” 
Your head shakes, frantic, and your next inhale is deep, gathering enough air in your lungs to steady yourself, and he rises again, eyes scanning your face desperately, needing you to be okay.
Your eyes lock almost instantly, and the look on your face is pleading, your words articulating the desperation behind them when you say “More, Andrei, please. Pozhaluysta.”
He curses, cock throbbing when he pushes inside another inch, and your hands fly to his ass, nails digging into the flesh of his cheeks as you try to pull him closer. “I know, I know,” he assures, “I’ve got you, almaznyy.”
“I’m so close again already, Andrei.” You murmur, tilting your head up and speaking the words against his jaw. “Please, just wanna feel you. Want you all the way inside.”
The way your words affect him feel nearly criminal, and he almosts debates grabbing his tie from out in the living area of the suite or your torn thong from his pants on the floor and using either of them to gag you, keep your mouth shut and stop him from blowing his load before he’s ready.
“Okay,” he says instead, trying to ease your desperation as well as his own. He pushes inside a little more, and when you nod, pleased mewls spilling through your lips, he keeps going until he’s seated all the way inside, can feel his balls pressing against your ass cheeks, and you both let out a satisfied groan.
“Khoroshaya devochka,” good girl, “taking me so well,” he praises, and you nod, eyes glazed over in pleasure.
“For you,” you say, all breathy. “Just for you.”
His hips stutter, causing him to pull out and push back in just a fraction, but it’s enough that your eyes flutter. “What did I say?” He asks, and watches in amazement when you give him a lazy smile, eyes still lost in the way he’s making you feel.
“You said I was a good girl,” you say, though it comes out slow, and Andrei nods, dropping a kiss to your lips, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away and pushes up on his arms.
“I did,” he confirms. He drags his hips backward until just the tip of him rests inside of you, and then he pushes forward, burying himself back to the hilt. The moan that echoes across the walls buries itself in his mind as he catalogs the sound.
He starts to fuck you in earnest then, hands resting on the backs of your thighs to keep you propped open and spread for him, allowing him to watch the way his cock disappears inside of you, the way you take him over and over, his cock glistening with your arousal everytime he pulls out. The sounds your bodies make are probably obscene, but they sound like perfection in his mind, and he keeps at it, his eyes locked on your face to gauge your reactions, to make sure that he’s not giving you anything but mind blowing pleasure.
It’s all you deserve. He’ll give you nothing but the best, and if it’s not to your standards, he won’t stop until he gets it right, until he knows everything you like, until his legs burn and his jaw aches and he knows every single way he can make you come until you see stars and your voice is shot from screaming his name.
“Andrei,” you breathe, hands fisted in the sheets. “I’m going to come.”
He nods, “Do it, almaznyy. I want to see. Let me see you.”
“Want you to come with me,” you plead, and he feels his balls tighten at your plea. 
Your bodies know one another, he’s certain of it now.
“I will,” he promises. “Need you to come first, need to make sure you come first. Come for me and I’ll give you anything and everything, I promise.”
Your pussy flutters around him again, and he drives his hips forward, focused on fucking you until your flutters turn into a near death grip as you squeeze him, back breaking on an arch as his name crosses your lips in ecstasy, body shaking as your orgasm rocks through your body.
Your arms shoot out as you yank him down, and when you kiss him, when he swallows your cries as your release drips down his cock, he can feel a tight knot form at the base of his spine as his orgasm hits him like a freight train.
His arms shake as he keeps you open to him, cock throbbing as his orgasm pulses inside of you, filling you to the brim as he claims you from the inside.
“Ty moy,” he says as his orgasm begins to calm, pressing the words into your hairline. “Tol'ko moy.”
You’re mine, only mine.
“Andrei,” you say, his name sounding like a plea and a confirmation to his words all at once, and his heart hammers in his chest. 
If you only knew, almaznyy. He wants to say.
But his name on your lips is enough for now.
It has to be.
~
November
He wakes up hard. 
Images of you run through his brain from his dreams into his waking life and he sighs, reaching for his phone on his bedside table.
There’s a text there from you, telling him goodnight after you got off the phone earlier, and though it’s late - or maybe too early in the morning, he’s not sure - he calls you anyway, figuring he could just leave a voicemail, and a surprised bolt of joy blooms in his chest when you actually answer.
“Thought you were asleep, malysh.” You say, and Andrei can hear your smile through the phone.
“I never should have taught you that word,” he teases. He’d taught it to you the morning after your first night together, after he’d pressed the word into your neck while he fucked you from behind.
“Why not?” You feign hurt. “You get to call me something cute, why can’t I?”
What he really wants to call you is your name, but he knows he can’t ask, and since you still haven’t offered, it’s probably because you don’t feel like the two of you are in the right place for it.
You’ll get there, the two of you, he’s sure of it. He’s waited this long, he can wait a little more.
“You’re just going to use it to torment me,” he says, sighing as he leans back against his headboard.
You hum to yourself. “Well you’re clearly tormenting yourself if you’re awake right now. What’s going on?”
He shrugs even though he knows you can’t see him. “Ya skuchayu po tebe,” he says. “Kazhdyy den'.”
I miss you, every day.
It’s only been a couple of weeks, but it feels like months in his mind. Especially now that he’s had you in his arms, now that he knows what it sounds like when you say his name when he makes you come, now that he knows what you taste like, how you feel beneath his hands and body, it’s like he’s got a craving he can’t satisfy and he can’t help but want more, even if it leaves him feeling starved.
“Oh Andrei,” you coo, adoration in your voice. “I miss you too.”
His heart stops and he takes a deep breath, clutching his phone tighter. “How do you know what I said?”
“I have my ways.” You say cryptically, and he can hear your mischievous smile through the phone.
“Have you been taking lessons?” He inquires. It’s possible, given how much you understood that night and so far.
You giggle, “What’s making you miss me so much?”
He’ll accept your change of subject…for now. “Can’t get enough of you.” He confesses, “I can’t stop thinking about the last time I saw you.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” you say. “Or that night.”
Andrei feels butterflies in his stomach followed by a wave of sadness. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again,” he says honestly. “We’re in the height of the season now, and we’ve got a decent stretch of home games coming up, so it’ll be hard to get away to New York.”
“We don’t have to meet in New York, you know.” You say. “I can always come to Raleigh.”
He blinks, bolting upright so quick it almost makes him dizzy. “You can?”
“Yeah, Eden allows it so that we can travel wherever we need to. You don’t have to always formally book dates and times unless it’s based on your schedule.” You say. “I can always come to you, I just thought that…”
Your voice trails off, and Andrei frowns. “Thought what?”
You hesitate, and he feels it form a crack in his chest. “I thought you needed something more discreet, and that you liked being in Manhattan for the secrecy, so I never mentioned anything else. Plus, you always booked for The Mark Hotel, so…”
When you don’t continue, he swallows a lump in his throat. “I didn’t really know that. I guess I didn’t fully understand the booking parameters. Plus, I thought it was easier for you.” He winces at his word choice. “Not because of Eden, or anything, but because it was where we first met? So I thought it would be more comfortable for you..”
“No I understand, Andrei, I do.” You reassure him. “But I can come to you, if you’d like. If that’s what you want, or what you’re comfortable with.”
“I’d love that.” He says almost immediately. “I would love to have you here.”
~
You arrive in Raleigh two days later, Andrei picking you up from the airport. You’d offered to take an Uber since Eden would be footing the bill, but Andrei didn’t like that idea. 
You were his girl, his companion, and he’d take care of you himself, thank you very much.
He parks in the garage and waits for you at baggage claim, hiding beneath a baseball cap and his reading glasses just in case any fans recognize him. It doesn’t help that despite the fact that he’s retired, he knows his face is still plastered at the terminal exit as passengers come out and take the escalators down toward baggage claim.
Thankfully, you don’t make him wait long. He spots you coming down the escalator, wearing sweatpants and a baggy shirt Andrei recognizes as his own, a flannel tied around your waist and a duffel bag hanging off of one shoulder, your bracelet glittering in the fluorescent lights of the airport.
You spot him just as quickly, and Andrei enjoys the way the smile that stretches across your lips forms almost immediately. 
Andrei’s moving before he realizes, and he ends up at the bottom of the escalator just in time for you to step off of it, and then he’s hauling you into his arms by your waist, your own wrapping around his neck as he lifts you a little and spins you around, careful to move you both out of the way in the process.
Happy giggles spill from your lips as he presses kisses all over your face, grinning from ear to ear when he sets you down on your feet.
“Hi, almaznyy.” He greets quietly, arms still secured around you.
You rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his jaw, greeting him with an equally soft “Hi, malysh.”
He takes your hand and leads you over to the baggage claim area for your flight, choosing a spot close to the belt but far enough away from other passengers that he can still have you all to himself.
“How was your flight?” He asks, thumb rubbing the back of your hand.
“It was good,” you say, resting your head against his arm. “I’m just happy I’m here.”
“So am I, almaznyy.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the buzzer goes off and the belt of the baggage carousel starts to move.
You point out your suitcase after a few minutes and Andrei insists on grabbing it and taking your duffel from you, carrying both so the only thing you have to worry about holding is his hand in yours.
You make it out to his car and he makes sure to get you inside safe and sound before he places your things in the backseat, despite your protests of your suitcase messing up his leather interior.
He could care fucking less about that. All he cares about right now is that you’re here, in Raleigh, that he’s about to take you home for the first time, and that according to the confirmation email he got after you got off the phone the other night, the ticket Eden helped you arrange to Raleigh was a one way ticket. 
Meaning you were here for as long as either of you wanted, with no clear plans to send you back, and he liked that a lot.
He also liked that your suitcase felt heavy, meaning you probably packed for a long time.
All things that made Andrei feel like he should probably get a gift basket for Olly and Mason as a thank you for not being able to keep their traps shut at that dinner, maybe talk to Coach about getting them more ice time, maybe negotiating more money in their next contracts.
You held hands the entire drive to his house, your bracelet and his Rolex glinting in the sunlight from where they accompanied one another on his center console, and when he finally pulled into his garage and shut off his car, he felt a sudden rush of excitement fill his veins, and excitement he’d only felt whenever he got his day with the Cup. 
It was that initial feeling of him being able to carry it over the threshold into his home that made the victory feel surreal, and as he wheeled your luggage and carried your bag, holding your hand as he guided you inside his home and over the threshold, he realized this feeling, bringing you home, was better than any Cup championship he’d experienced.
It wasn’t even close.
The only thing that could possibly come second flashed in his mind, and images of him being able to bring you over this threshold in a white dress, layers of tulle flowing like a waterfall over his arms, and then not long after, being able to escort you over the threshold as you held a bundled up baby in your arms.
It seized the breath from his lungs so quickly he nearly choked. 
He’d never given so much thought to a god damn doorway before.
Oblivious to his predicament, you trail behind him as he leads you to his bedroom, eyes roaming over the expanse of his home, taking in every last detail.
“I’ll give you a full tour once you’re settled in,” he promises. “I just want to make sure you get comfortable first.”
“Okay,” you agree, voice soft in the mid morning hour.
When you finally get to his room, he lays your suitcase down on the bench at the foot of the bed, placing your duffel bag next to it. “You can sleep on whatever side you’d like,” he says, gesturing to the bed. “Feel free to make yourself at home. Bathroom’s through there,” he points to a door near the closet, “Fresh towels are already out for you. Would you like something to eat? I can make you lunch.”
You shake your head. “No, I'm okay for now, I ate a little on the plane.”
“Are you sure? Can I get you anything else?” he asks.
You shake your head again with a small smile, tilting your head toward the bathroom. “I’m sure, Andrei. Do you mind if I shower?”
“Of course not, feel free. I’ll uh…I’ll be in my office just down the hall, there’s something I have to take care of anyway.”
He closes the distance and drops a kiss to your lips, squeezing your waist in his hand before he leaves, wanting to give you space to yourself, to feel comfortable in his home. 
Oh god. 
You’re in his home.
His actual fucking house.
He can’t seem to get over that as nerves begin to settle in, tossing his hat to his desk once he’s in his office, running a hand through his hair.
He hasn’t been this nervous to bring someone home ever. He’d been so excited just to see you again, to have you here that it wasn’t until now that he worried what you’d think of the space, if you’d find it comfortable and homey and welcoming.
With a sigh, he pushes his glasses further up his nose as he opens his laptop, bringing up his emails and sorting through some of the things he needed to take care of for the team, welcoming the distraction even though it made him feel uncomfortable to think of anything but you for longer than a millisecond. 
Especially when you were down the hall, in his bedroom, in his shower, naked. 
The same shower he’d jerked off in thinking about you this morning, and last night. And the night before.
“O Gospodi, chto zhe ya nadelal,” he mutters to himself. Oh lord, what have I done?
He spends the next fifteen minutes willing himself to focus on the emails in front of him, tasks for him to finish up, people to respond back to, people to reach out to at the behest of the team owners and Coach Brind’amour. When his emails clear, he shuts his laptop and pulls out his phone, busying himself with responding to texts from Evgeny about the upcoming holidays, getting back to Evgeny’s wife, Sara, about potential Christmas presents for his brother, and his parents, checking in on them both.
It busies him enough that when you finally walk into his office - wet hair still dripping a little and body dressed in a baby pink spaghetti strap sundress, the only jewelry on you being the bracelet you never take off, your bare feet padding onto the carpet - he doesn’t notice at first. 
That is, not until you’re on the other side of his desk, knocking your fist playfully on the wood.
Andrei’s head snaps up from his phone, and he leans back a little in relief in his chair when he notices it’s you, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “You almost scared me there.”
“Sorry,” you breathe out in a laugh. “I believe I have an appointment with you, Mr. Svechnikov?”
He’s confused at first, until he sees the way your eyes twinkle mischievously, and he smirks. “Is that so?”
You nod, clasping your hands behind your back. “Mhm, I believe you’ve been expecting me, and I know you don’t like it when I’m late.”
Andrei places his phone back in his pocket, then folds his hands across his abdomen, resting his elbows on the armrest of his chair. “What is it you’re meant to be meeting with me about?”
“Don’t you remember? I’m your new assistant,” you say, releasing one of your hands from behind your back and trailing a finger on the other side of his desk. “I’ve been hired to help you and ensure your daily needs are met.”
“You’re a little underdressed to be an assistant, aren’t you?” He asks, tilting his head curiously.
You look down with a small pout, then back up to his face. “You don’t like it?”
“Hmmm, it’s hard to tell. Why don’t you come around the desk and let me see?”
He backs his chair up a little as you round the desk and then come to stand between his spread legs. Andrei pretends to deliberate, raising his hand in the air and twirling his finger before saying “Turn around, let me see all of you.” 
A shy smile works its way onto your face as you do a little turn, his cock immediately growing hard as he observes you taking slow steps to complete your circle before facing him once more, clasping your hands in front of you. “Well?”
“I think,” Andrei says, scooting his chair closer to you before his hands make their way to the backs of your thighs, thumbs rubbing at your skin. “That you’re perfect.”
“Why thank you,” you murmur, reaching a hand out and cupping his cheek. “You’re very sweet.”
He shakes his head a little. “If you knew what was going through my head right now, you’d disagree.”
“Well, what’s going through your head?” You inquire, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone. 
“Why don’t you hop up on the desk and maybe you’ll find out?” He says, punctuating his statement with a light slap to the backs of one of your thighs. You gasp a little, leaning into him, and Andrei smiles, tightening his grip on your thighs as he stands, and you jump a little into his arms, your arms winding themselves around his neck as he backs you both up two steps, setting you down onto the wood of his desk gently. 
“I always have a lot going on in my head when it comes to you,” he admits, reaching up to grab your hands, kissing the backs of them before bringing them down to your lap. “I just don’t want you to…I guess I just don’t want to scare you away.”
“Skazhi mne,” you encourage, voice soft. Tell me.
Andrei’s eyes flash. “Tell me where you’re learning Russkiy.” He demands.
You giggle, “What’s going on in your head?” You ask him instead, and he narrows his eyes a little.
One of these days he’s not going to let you change the subject, but for now, he plays along. “I think about you sometimes,” he admits, circling his fingers around the bracelet on your wrist, pads running over the diamond studded vines. “I think about you on this desk, like you are now.”
“And?” You press, tracking his every move with your eyes. 
He hesitates to say more, unsure of how far to go with this, unsure of what he should reveal and what would be too…scandalous. 
“What about me on the desk, Andrei?” You ask, reaching a hand out to trail down his abdomen, resting on the waistband of his jeans.
He shakes his head, cheeks heating as his face goes red. He’s too ashamed, feels like he shouldn’t have been thinking such…dirty things about someone as pure as you. “I can’t, almaznyy. I-”
You surge up then, pulling his waistband at the same time and kissing him, hands traveling up his abdomen and to his face, where you pull his reading glasses off and set them on the desk next to his phone. Then, you take him by surprise, placing your hands firmly on his chest and shoving him back down into his desk chair. 
“I think this is where I, as your assistant, can help you articulate those thoughts.” You start, his favorite cheshire smile of yours creeping onto your lips. “Since it’s my job to make sure your needs are met, and to anticipate any future needs.”
“Are you sure about that?” He asks, well aware of how hard he’s breathing. 
You nod, and without another word, spread those glorious legs of yours to reveal your bare pussy.
Andrei’s breath catches in his throat. “Almaznyy,” he breathes, the word coming out like a pained sound.
“Malysh,” you say, voice teasing as your hand, the one donning your bracelet, comes forward and runs down your stomach and to the hem of your dress, pulling it up to bare yourself to him a little more.
He doesn’t know where to look. He wants to look at your face, wants to watch your facial expressions, but then he also wants to watch your hands, memorize the way you touch yourself so he can mimic the movements later, and he wants to keep his eyes locked on that little piece of heaven you’ve got between your thighs.
“Will this make it easier for you to tell me what’s on your mind?” You ask, trailing your fingers down and collecting the wetness already gathering, dragging it back up to circle your clit.
All he can do is nod, too entranced by your ministrations. He can feel his mouth start to water, watching one of the spaghetti straps of your sundress start to fall off of one shoulder, and good lord -
He reaches out, rubbing the hem of your sundress between his fingers. “Ty golaya pod etim plat'yem, krasavitsa?” 
Are you naked under this dress, beautiful?
Your brow furrows as your fingers continue to move in deliberate circles, and Andrei memorizes the pattern, tucks it away in his brain for later. “I don’t…I didn’t understand all of that,” you admit.
He smirks, but doesn’t repeat himself. He doesn’t know if he has the energy to think in just one language, let alone two right now, because all of his focus is directed on you and your body. 
“Boleye,” he pleads. More.
Now that you seem to understand, because you part your legs a little wider, scooting more toward the edge of his desk as you continue touching yourself.
Andrei rolls his desk chair a little closer so you can place your feet on the armrests and essentially bracket him in, giving him the perfect front row seat to everything going on. He reaches for his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them before he’s reaching inside his boxer briefs and pulling out his cock, giving it a rough tug to ease some of the pressure. 
Your pupils blow out wide as you watch him, and he jerks his chin at where your fingers are moving up and down your pussy now, where he can see the digits glistening from his vantage point.
“Move your hand.” He orders, and you do, prepared to move it to the side to rest on your thigh, but then Andrei’s making a small “tsk” noise, and your hand hovers in the air for a second. 
“Give it to me,” he says, holding one hand out while the other strokes his cock in slow movements. You place your hand in his and then he’s bringing the arousal coated digits to his mouth, sucking them between his lips and massaging the pads with his tongue, cleaning away your wetness and swallowing it down with a pleased rumble in his chest.
Your fingers leave his mouth in a soft ‘pop’ when he pulls them out, and he brings both hands to rest under your thighs, pulling you just a little bit closer to the edge, allowing his desk chair to also roll forward until there’s practically no space between you both, and then he’s bending his head, lips latching onto your pussy and sucking hard.
A surprised moan crosses your lips and Andrei’s hands hold you steady as you thrash a little, clearly not expecting him to just dive in so eagerly. Your hands slam against the desk behind you, using them to try to prop you up and keep you steady, and Andrei’s eyes are glued to your face.
He managed to learn what you liked best that first night, having the privilege to have taken you four times that night, insisting on tasting you every chance he got. He knows now that you like it when he turns his head just a little, tilting it so it’s nearly sideways and taking your labia and clit into his mouth and sucking, licking across the center of your cunt and teasing it as if he’s making out with you.
So when he tilts his head and does just that, taking you into his mouth the way you like, his name spews from your lips in a breathy sigh, and your arms shake at your sides.
Eagerly, he laps at you and moans in satisfaction when the taste of you and smell of you overwhelms his senses, having also learned that you like hearing him, like hearing how much he’s enjoying you and how excited he is to get you to come on his tongue. He doesn’t exaggerate the noises his mouth makes against you but does nothing to lessen or quiet them.
It’s his fucking house, and you’re on his fucking desk, at the mercy of his lips and tongue and spread out by his hands, so he’ll do whatever he god damn pleases. You can cry out for God for all he cares, it’s just the two of you in this room, and the only ‘God’ to answer your prayers for more is going to be him. 
“Andrei,” you moan, turning his name into a plea and dammit does he love that, too. It’s a sound he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. “Pozhaluysta,” you beg. Please.
You don’t have to beg, he wants to tell you. You don’t have to beg me for a goddamn thing. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just ask me and it’s yours, I’m yours. 
Instead, he just nods, pressing his tongue against you in the way he knows you like and spreading your thighs apart, pressing against the back of them to expose you to him more so he can feast on you properly.
It’s messy, wet, and loud, and Andrei couldn’t give a single fuck, not when you’re so close, your arousal dripping down his chin and your thighs are pressing up against his palm, shaking as you get closer and threatening to squeeze his head between the strong muscles.
“Can I come, Andrei?” You ask, syrupy sweet and desperate and his cock throbs in response.
He nods, brushing his nose against your clit as he does and you jolt, body nearly shaking in relief when his lips circle around your clit and he sucks in the pulsing rhythm he discovered had you coming in no time time, his tongue lapping at you and drawing you closer to release.
When your orgasm hits, your whole body shakes under his touch, and your arms fall out from under you, your back landing on his desk and then arching up, pressing you further into his mouth. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t back away, doesn’t do anything until you’re pushing at his head, and whining at the over sensitivity.
“Please malysh,” you beg, shaking against his mouth as he continues to lap at you. “It’s too much.”
“I’m a little busy, almaznyy,” he murmurs against your clit. “I’m cleaning up my assistant.”
You laugh through heaving breaths, fingers descending into Andrei’s hair and gripping the strands tight in your fist, tugging a little. He relents, pressing gentle kisses to your skin as you sit up, and then you’re fisting his shirt in your grasp, yanking him upright and kissing him, slipping your tongue inside his mouth and chasing the taste of yourself on his tongue.
You take him by surprise in the next second, shoving him back down in his chair and then licking the palm of your hand, wrapping it around his cock and twisting.
He hisses, hands gripping at your calves. He’s too sensitive and far too hard to be able to handle your touch. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to handle it, especially not now that he knows every inch of your skin and how it feels against his.
“Almaznyy,” he warns through clenched teeth when you twist your first over the head of his cock, squeezing and swiping at the bead of precum on his tip with your thumb. “Stop teasing.”
“Is that an order, Mr. Svechnikov?” You taunt, squeezing the head of his cock once more. 
A low groan leaves his lips, and he has half a mind to reach up and wrap his fingers around your throat, but instead, all he can do is hiss out a pained “Yes,” and then you’re using your other hand to reach out, yanking him a little closer before scooting all the way off of his desk and sitting right on his cock, taking him to the hilt in one go.
The gasp that leaves you both simultaneously is loud and echoes around his office, probably even down the hallway, and he can barely gather enough air in his lungs before you’re rising up again and then dropping down, and it feels like he’s going to burst at the seams.
“Oh my god,” he says, the words feeling like they’re being punched out of him as you slowly start to bounce on him. He tracks the way both of the straps of your dress hang off of your shoulders, the way that the bottom part of your dress is still raised from where he’d pushed it up earlier, and the bounce of your tits beneath the neckline.
He reaches out, tugging the neckline down and freeing them, and then you’re moving, sitting up a little taller, thighs bracketing his as you keep your pace bouncing on his cock, arching your back just so that when Andrei leans forward, he can easily suck your nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue over the bud while sucking your skin, hoping a hickey blooms there for him to admire later.
The moans spilling from your lips tell him you enjoy it, so he continues, switching to the other side and giving you teasing licks before he mimics his previous ministrations, sucking hard enough to hopefully produce matching marks.
Your hands find their way into the longer hair at the nape of his neck and tug so he’s looking up at you, and Andrei sees the way your glassy eyes take in his fucked out expression, sees how it spurs you on, your mouth dropping open in an ‘O’ everytime you sink down on his cock till he’s balls deep, then raise yourself up on your knees.
“Khoroshaya devochka,” he praises. Good girl. “Take it from me. Make yourself come on my cock.”
Nodding, you speed up just a little, thighs tightening on either side of his, and Andrei’s hands go to your ass, gripping the flesh and helping to move you up and down his length, keeping his eyes on your face to watch you, waiting for the way your eyes start to roll in the back of your head and waiting for the beautiful flutter of your pussy on his cock to let him know when you’re going to come.
“Andrei,” you whine, your grip in his hair loosening a little. “I’m so close.”
“I’ve got you,” he swears. He means it in every way possible. “Take what you need.” He punctuates his statement by burying his face in your neck and sucking on that sensitive spot he found last time, and it has you clenching around him in seconds, crying out as you pulse around him, body seizing as your orgasm washes over.
He has to take control then, gripping your hips and fucking you through it the way he knows you like, and it’s not long before he’s following behind you, pressing you down onto his cock as he pushes his pelvis upward, sealing the two of you together as he fills you up with his come, pulse hammering so hard in his body he can feel it in his ears.
As your orgasms subside, gently, he rubs up and down your back, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck and collarbone, happy to just sit here with you on top of him until you’re ready to move.
Eventually, you speak, voice a little raspy when you say “I think I need another shower after that.”
Andrei laughs, slowly standing and wrapping your legs around his waist, still fully seated inside you. “I think shower sex sounds like an excellent idea.”
~
The longer you stay with him, you two start to develop the beginnings of a routine together, and Andrei finds himself clinging to it like a lifeline.
In the mornings, you’re usually up first, wandering to some part of his massive house and drinking a steaming cup of tea or coffee, and it feels a bit like a game, Andrei wandering after you through his house to find where you’ve situated yourself for that morning. You usually only drink half of whatever you’ve made that morning, and when he finds you, he drinks the rest, still warm, before he takes your hand and drags you into the shower.
The first morning he did it, you pushed him to the built in shower bench and sank to your knees, took him in your mouth until he saw stars and came deep down your throat with a loud groan, repeating “Almaznyy” over and over until you took pity on him and released him from your mouth with a soft “pop,” the water trailing over your face making you look like a damn goddess. 
He came within like…five minutes, that first time. And though you clearly loved it and reveled in the effect you had on him, he would rather each time with you last longer than ten minutes, so he decided he wouldn’t let you take him in your mouth for a little while, especially if it meant saving what he had left of his pride and ego.
Sometimes, he would put you on the shower bench and get on his knees, burying his face between your thighs until you begged him for mercy. Other times, he pressed you against the tile wall, burying himself to the hilt and finding solace with you under the warm spray, filling you to the brim before fucking it deeper inside of you. 
Then, he’d wrap you up in one of his big, fluffy towels and dry you off, pressing you against the bathroom sink and kissing you until your stomachs rumbled. After getting ready for the day, he’d drag you out of the bathroom and to the kitchen where either you or him would make breakfast for the both of you, and then he’d either go to his office and work for a bit, or get dressed to head to the arena. 
If he stayed home to work, you’d either sit quietly with him in his office reading a book or sketching in a worn journal, earbuds in and playing music. He’d worried you’d be bored, but you assured him you were used to having to occupy yourself with things to do. That statement made him worry even more, but since you seemed to be fine, he didn’t push.
He’d work until there was nothing left for him to do, and he’d wait for you to either finish the chapter you were reading, or finish up the sketches in your journal. He had been tempted to ask you to see them, but given the way you hunched over your journal, like you’d been protecting it, he left it alone, figuring you’d share them with him if you wanted to. 
You’d spend the rest of the day together either making lunch, going out to eat, or with Andrei taking you around the Raleigh or Durham areas on little dates. So far, he’d taken you to the science museum, the North Carolina Museum of Art, taken you on a pedal boat ride in Pullen Park, brought you to Drive Shack where you both surprisingly and unsurprisingly kicked his ass, given you’d pretty much done the same when you brought him to Chelsea Piers, and just last night, he’d taken you to Rush Hour Karting.
He’d been there when he was a rookie in development camp for the Hurricanes, and he hadn’t been back in quite some time. It was nice though, to head back and make new and equally as happy memories there with you. You kicked his ass in a couple of laps, and since you’d raced with other people, there had been a round where a sixteen year old practically wiped the floor with everyone else, and it had made you and Andrei laugh a little when he’d been ready to boast about it until he saw Andrei’s face and freaked out, asking for a picture.
Those days where he could work from home and just be around you, taking the rest of his day to spend time with you, bring you anywhere and everywhere and spoil you silly? Those were beginning to be his favorite kind of days.
On the days he would go into his office at the arena, though, there are still particular advantages.
Andrei leaves his black card behind, insisting that you take it and make use of it as you need or see fit. 
The first morning he left it for you, he took it out of his wallet and put it down on the kitchen counter as he was heading out the door, and you just stared down at it, brow furrowed and lower lip jutting out in slight confusion.
“What is this for?” You had asked, holding it up in the air.
“For you,” he said, like it was obvious. “For you to use?” 
You pursed your lips, placed it back down on the counter and slid it back to him. “No, it’s okay.”
He frowned, ditching his bag by the door and rounded the counter to you. “I want you to have it, malyshka,” he insists. 
Your face scrunched up. “I know this next statement is going to sound weird, considering my job, and the circumstances of our…uh…relationship, but I don’t want your money, Andrei.”
“I understand, almaznyy,” he assured you. “But I don’t want you to spend your money. Not while you’re here with me,” he said, then tucked the card back in your hand. 
You stared at it for a second, then looked back up at his face, a small frown still on your lips, and Andrei couldn’t help but laugh. He reached out, smoothed the wrinkle between your brows and cupped your face in his palm. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and then looked down at you with an amused smile. 
“How about this,” he began, “Since you’ve appointed yourself as my assistant, why don’t you take care of a few tasks for me?” He gestured to the card in your hand with his chin. “Use the card to pay for them.”
A small smile crept up your face, and you tilted your head at him, intrigued. “And what tasks would you be referring to, Mr. Svechnikov?”
“I think you need a new uniform,” he said, keeping his tone playful. “Why don’t you go and find something nice to wear around our…home office.” He punctuated those last words with a wink, smirking when you giggled. “Whatever you like, whatever the price. Get yourself some office supplies while you’re at it too, hm?”
“Oh I see,” you said. “This is a company expense, is it?”
“More or less,” he nodded, dropping another kiss to your forehead. “But I want to see everything you buy when you buy it. Send me pictures so I can see, understand? ”
You agreed with that gorgeous cheshire smile of yours. “I do.” 
And god if all the blood didn’t rush straight to his cock, picturing you in white as you say those words to him in another life, another time.
When he heads to the office, he purposefully takes his red Lamborghini to the rink, leaving you the safer options of his Mercedes or his BMW to use to go and complete your ‘daily tasks,’ and Andrei waits like an impatient teenager for those texts from you to come through. 
He’s saved every single picture, and thank goodness he has, because the second he gets home from work, it’s like the two of you are instantly pulled together like magnets. No matter where you are in the house, he gravitates to you, and you go at it like rabbits until one of you gets hungry, or until you’re begging him for relief. The lingerie sets barely make it ten minutes without being absolutely torn to shreds.
Though he wasn’t sure where you’d bought them, he had half a mind to march into the store and demand to know why their fabrics were so flimsy.
He's torn the first few either at the waist or right down the crotch, and one of them he all but snapped the strap of the garter belt off, the strap basically now hanging by a thread. The only things that have managed to survive after your first couple of weeks with him are a baby pink lace set complete with garter belt and stockings, and the same set, but in crimson red.
“You’re doing it on purpose,” you accuse through heavy breathing later that night, eyeing the fallen scraps of black lace among the black satin dress on the floor. The only thing that had managed to survive tonight was your thigh high stockings, which Andrei found himself running his fingers over now, your legs draped in his lap.
“What do you mean?” He questions, thumbing at where the lace of your stockings met your inner thigh.
You shivered a little, but didn’t move away from his touch, “You’re ripping them on purpose so I have to buy more, and that means I have to use your card.”
He smiles, dancing his finger over the spot inside your thigh that he’d made red by rubbing his stubbly cheek against it as he licked at you for a blissful thirty minutes. “You caught me.”
“If you wanted to be a sugar daddy you could’ve just said so.” You say lazily, stretching your body out. You probably don’t mean for it to look so seductive, but Andrei’s hypnotized nonetheless.
“I didn’t want to be,” he says honestly. “But you changed my mind a little.”
“I figured,” you murmur, casting a glance to your bracelet. “But you like it, don’t you?”
“Like what?” He asks, tugging your legs and maneuvering you until you’re straddling him again.
“Providing, spoiling, ” you purr, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“I like it when it’s you.” Andrei clarifies, tilting his chin up so he can press little kisses along your jaw. “Even if I have to fight you on it a little.”
“I don’t want a sugar daddy for money,” you drawl, pushing his hair away from his face. 
He stares at you, confused. “Isn’t that what they’re for?”
“If I’m gonna have a sugar daddy, I want him for sugar.” You explain, “Not money.”
“Ya ne ponimayu, chto ty imeyesh' v vidu, detka.” I don’t understand what you mean baby.
You roll your eyes playfully, pulling his chin up and kissing him softly. He moans into your mouth, hands resting on your waist and bringing you closer. You tease him with your tongue running over his bottom lip before you pull away, sitting back a little. 
“That kind of sugar,” you say softly, running your thumb over his bottom lip. 
It takes him a few seconds, but then it clicks, and he flashes you a cheeky grin. “Well I’ve given you plenty of that, too, haven’t I?”
You shrug, reaching between you to grab his stiff cock and bring it back to your pussy, slipping him back inside of you and sinking down slowly, “A little more wouldn’t hurt.”
He’s immediately scooting back against the pillows and then his hands are on your thighs, anchoring you to him while you ride him, beginning your fourth round of the night.
~
After a few weeks of you staying with him, you approach him in his home office one day as he’s about to get off of a call. There’s an apprehensive look on your face as you linger in the doorway, clearly not wanting to interrupt, but he waves you inside anyway, gesturing for you to sit on the couch against the wall. 
You obey, waiting patiently until he’s hanging up and placing his phone beside his computer to stand from your seat and approach the other side of his desk.
“What can I do for you, almaznyy?” He asks, leaning back in his chair. 
“It’s probably a silly question,” you preface, “But I figured I would ask just in case.”
He nods, folding his hands on his stomach. “Okay.”
“I uh…me being here isn’t interfering with your holiday plans, right? I don’t know if you do anything for Thanksgiving since you started living here, but since it’s in a week or so, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t overstaying my welcome.”
His brow furrows, mouth turning down into a frown. “You’re perfectly fine,” he assures. “I used to go to my coach’s house, but I haven't in years.” He pauses then, guilt suddenly coursing through his veins. “Am I…I’m not keeping you from your family, am I?”
You shake your head almost immediately, a strange look crossing your features. “No you’re not, we haven’t - I mean, we don’t celebrate. Haven’t in a bit.”
Andrei nods in response, but the guilt is still there, suddenly eating at his insides.
He’d been so wrapped up in you, so happy with your routines and the little corner of the world you’d managed to carve out for yourselves that he didn’t even think about the fact that he could’ve been keeping you away from your friends and family.
Or that he’s technically been keeping you away from his friends and family, too.
His mother’s been living with Evgeny the last couple of years, moving in to help Sara with their two year old and three month old babies, and his dad’s still back in Moscow, mostly by choice to help with Andrei and Evgeny’s grandparents. Evgeny and Sara sort of know he’s been seeing someone, but he hasn’t divulged much more, and he has no idea what you’ve been sharing with your family in turn.
Plus…he’s probably keeping you from other clients, which isn’t his favorite thing to think about, at all, but he can’t ignore the circumstances of how the two of you met, or how you came into his life. 
So as much as it pains him to say it, he doesn’t want to be like the beast keeping you locked in his castle against your will, so he takes a deep breath, and says “Almaznyy, if you need to go home, or if you need to go back, then-”
“I don’t,” you interject. “I’m good here.”
Oh…okay…
“No one’s missing you?” He asks. “You don’t have other clients?”
“I’m good here, Andrei,” you repeat, this time a little softer, rounding the desk. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Of course I’m okay,” he assures you, reaching for your waist and pulling you into his lap. “I was the one who asked you to be here with me. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want you with me.”
You nod, body relaxing into his embrace. 
There’s another sharp pain in his chest, and he rests his head resting in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
He can feel you tense for a second in surprise. “For what?”
“I didn’t think about…other people. I didn’t mean to be selfish, but I was, and I’m sorry.”
“Oh Andrei,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers scratching lightly at the base of his scalp. “I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. I just…I didn’t realize how long I’d been staying here with you, and when I did, I knew I needed to check in. That’s all.”
“I like having you here,” he confesses. “It feels…”
“Natural,” you finish for him. “I know, I feel the same.”
You both settle into a small silence, Andrei content to just hold you for a second, to stay in this little bubble with you he’d built before he’d been forced to remember the two of you weren’t actually alone in this world together.
“What about Christmas?” He eventually asks you. 
You nod. “My family does celebrate it, kind of. But I would have to go home for that.”
“I would too.” He confirms. “We technically celebrate Christmas twice. Once for western Christmas on the twenty fifth, and again in January for Russian Christmas.”
You lean back a little, brushing his hair away from his face, bracelet glinting in the sunlight filtering in through the window. “Guess we’ll have to make the best of this next month or so.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning up to kiss you softly. “I guess so.”
A pang of sadness hits him, already not looking forward to having to let you go.
~
Read Part Two Here.
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Pontiac Fiero
Opinions vary regarding the Fiero, Pontiac’s mid-engine sports car, but gearheads agree it was an interesting effort. Here’s an original 1984 GM video with a behind-the-scenes look at the two-seater’s unique engineering. 
In the 1980s, General Motors decided there was suddenly a market for sporty two-seaters it had somehow overlooked up to that point. Alongside the Chevrolet Corvette, GM’s traditional entry in the two-seater class, the automaker added the Cadillac Allante, the Buick Reatta, and the Pontiac Fiero. None of these new two-seaters were terribly successful in the marketplace, as things turned out. But they were interesting cars all the same—especially the Fiero, which sported a number of novel engineering features.
This original GM technical film from the Fiero’s 1984 rollout explores the innovative features, including the “space frame” unitized steel chassis construction and the “mill and drill” mounting system for the molded plastic body panels. (The marketing term Enduraflex referred to a variety of plastic materials.) There’s also a look at the drivetrain, which was essentially borrowed from GM’s front-drive X-car platform and transplanted to the rear axle of the P-body, as the Fiero was known internally.
The Fiero had plenty of fans when new, and it still has plenty of them to this day. More than 370,000 examples were produced over the five-year model run from 1984 to 1988. And according to Fiero partisans, by the time GM cancelled the car, it was improved into a fine little two-seat GT. Here’s where it all began.
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newtkive · 2 months
Text
pixels [ newt x reader - modern text au ]
ch. 2 - drama queen core
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summary: minho's drama finally catches up with him, but newt becomes a hero.
warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.
➥ m.list
__
THE GLADE
[ 12:08 PM ]
y/n: gm pookies
newt: it’s the afternoon.
y/n: yeah well
ur east coast
newt: so are you y/n
y/n: FINE BAD MORNING THEN ARE U HAPPY?
minho: drama queen is awake
newt: you’re the drama queen min let’s be fr
minho: u want me to die be honest
newt: see .
tommy: hey guys :3 been waiting for you all
y/n: awwww tommy <3 gm
tommy: morning sweetums
minho: ew stop
newt: how did you sleep?
tommy: good! used my new heated pillow
newt: not you
minho: not you
tommy: wtf
WHO THEN?? THERES LIKE 7 OTHER PPL IN HERE
minho: he means y/n
and there’s 4 other people not including newt and y/n dumbass
y/n: oh
why just me????
newt: cuz you stayed up til 6 am
y/n: ..
how do you know that
newt: i saw you were active on discord
gally: doesn’t that mean you were awake too then
newt: ok and?
minho: thats crazy newt
newt: no it isn’t
i just casually saw it
y/n: hehe
im ok i need to sleep more. sims 4 was really consuming me
why were you awake??
newt: up for work
minho: you get on discord before work?
chronically online..
newt: can you choke and pass out and hit your head please
minho: THE WAY U WANT ME DEAD IS INSANE
y/n: he’s gotta check on his discord hoes before hitting the grind
newt: there are no discord hoes
unless you count thomas
and i don’t
tommy: well why not
newt: because you disgust me
tommy: love u too :3<3
minho: y’all about to kiss aren’t you
newt: never say that shit again im outside your door with a b*mb
minho: why censor it
just blow me up it’s my grandmas house anyway. u want to jump her that bad????
gally: blow that bitch up i say
y/n: HELLO???!,!!
gally: minho not grandma
she loves me cuz im so tall
minho: tall people always gotta remind you they’re tall 😒
like we get it bigfoot
gally: shut up tinkerbell
y/n: you’re somewhat tall minho
minho: any man under 6’0 is considered short
y/n: yeah but newt is 6 ft trapped in a 5’10 body so not totally true
newt: what does that even mean
minho: give me a break
i can tell you exactly what that means
she wanna hit
newt: stop
tommy: don’t get his hopes up
newt: dude
stfu
y/n: what newt said
gally: can we appreciate the only one actually over 6 ft here
minho: no.
tommy: im the same height as newt!!!!
y/n: yea but ur like 3 ft trapped in a 5’10 body tommy not the same
tommy: oh ..
minho: kind of real
newt: can someone kick gally i’m tired of seeing his fucking name on my phone
gally: then turn your phone off don’t you have old ladies to tend to at the library
newt: yeah and they all love me
y/n: so real
if i was old i’d go in there and imagine you’re my young boyfriend and cling to everything u say
tommy: true im the old ladies
y/n: LMAO
minho: write a fanfic y/n why don’t you
newt: yeah you both are old and not beating the dementia allegations
y/n: IM THE YOUNGEST HERE
ur just mad you’re old as dirt
tommy: youth has left you newt and it has turn you bitter in your old age.
minho: thomas knows big words who knew
newt: which word in that sentence was big??
y/n: shut up minho
minho: wtf did i do
y/n: idk but i imagine you sitting there typing on your little phone and i got pissed
minho: WHAT???!.‘wKWHFO
newt: LMAOOOOOOOOOOO
yeah chubby little fingers hitting the wrong letters on his iphone 8
minho: im leaving
tommy: dont leave i forgive you for what you said
minho: i don’t give a damn
y’all mad y’all are all fake im the realest i’ve been prophesizing and reading scriptures 7000 years before y’all fake asses were born be so for real right now
y/n: not reading that
congrats
or sorry for what happened idk
about to drink my coffee in a wine glass
tommy: just drink wine
newt: it’s noon tommy??
tommy: ok and?
newt: explains a lot
minho: no coffee for me this new year only water and pussy juice fr fr
[ newt removed minho from the group ]
tommy: woah
y/n: woah..
newt: i can’t take it anymore
alby: How did you get that access..?
newt: don’t worry about it
in times of need i have to step in like that
y/n: hi alby!
alby: Hey y/n!
tommy: you’re such a hero newt
gally: that was deserved
who wants to play minecraft rn
y/n: me!!
alby: I’ll play, I’m off work today.
y/n: let’s go to the desert i want a camel
gally: alright but then the caves after i wanna mine
newt: if you mine with her you gotta bring extra food and storage when she dies so you can pick up the fallen items
gally: i forget you’re her designated babysitter
y/n: oh please no he isn’t
and i’ll bring my own food
newt: you always say that and then leave it in the stove oven
y/n: WELL I WONT THIS TIME
newt: sure ok
i’ll get on after work
[ alby added minho to the group ]
minho: when i get you.
newt: why did you add him back alby
alby: He was harassing me.
newt: be a man and take it
gally: im leaving
[ gally left the group ]
minho: im going to throw up and die
newt: im staying out of this
minho: (guy who caused it) im staying out of this
y/n: why does gally alwyas leave 😔
newt: why question a gift from the heavens
tommy: get online y/n gally is attacking my dirt house w a pickaxe :((((
y/n: NO IM COMING
minho: im coming to your work newt
newt: okay im locking the door early then
minho: i’ll smash through the glass idc
newt: i’m leaving my shift is over at 1 today.
minho: i’ll use life360 on you
newt: i deleted that app
minho: i’ll stand in the middle of the street
newt: ok let me position my car in front of you
just come to my apartment and we can play w them on pc and xbox
minho: …. fine but i hate your guts
newt: fine
y/n: HURRY GALLY IS ATTACKING MY SHED NOOOOWWW
newt: i’ll just rebuild it
minho: i’ll set it on fire just wait
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444rockstargf · 7 months
Note
hi i haven’t seen too many rory fics so i was wondering if u could do one where he’s getting ready at 7 in the morning for an interview and reader wakes up to him in the bathroom getting ready but she’s like extremely horny (like morning wood but for girls ;)) but she’s also like extremely tired cus it’s rlly early
and rory sees her and is like really sweet and goes to kiss her head say gm and give her a hug but when he tries to pull away he realizes that she’s like gripping him not letting him go and he’s like “babe i gotta finish getting ready” but she’s just holding onto his waist and rory’s all confused until she like looks up at him with eye bags and red shot doe eyes (but rory still thinks she’s beautiful ofc ;)) and is like “can you help me?”and rory’s confused at first but then realizes what she means when she slowly starts to take her panties off and then he’s like “you’re so tired tho” kind of laughing at her neediness but she’s like begging like “please?” with doe eyes n shit basically still half asleep but he gives in but is like “we hv to go quick cant b late” and he fucks her good and hard and like he’s holding both her legs up giving her a so much pleasure from the angle and he’s a little rough with her like grabbing her face and choking her and whispering dirty things into her ear and she’s like so tired but she’s staying up thru it and right after they cum she like falls asleep and he finds it really cute and is like “gn baby” and gives a her sweet goodbye kiss. :3
(dis is so much im so sorry)
ask & you shall recieve :))
"i need you." | rory culkin
off to the races. - lana del rey
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female!reader x rory
word count: 747
contents: unprotected sex, p in v, creampie
p.s. i didn't write this with the intention of directing any disrespect towards rory's relationship :))
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you rolled over as you felt the morning sun hitting your face. you slowly opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the light. you glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table. it read 7:02am. you got out of bed, slipping on your robe and stumbling to the bathroom, seeing rory getting ready through the crack in the door.
you opened the door and walked in, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. he gave you a soft kiss on the forehead before trying to brush you off, but you kept a tight grasp on him. you were so sleepy, but all you wanted was to be with him right then. you’d woken up feeling so needy for pleasure, so you weren’t ready to let him leave.
he looked at you, still trying to get you off of him. “i’ve gotta get to work, baby. i have an interview at 8 and i don’t want to miss the train.” you put your head on his shoulder and groaned. he lifted up your head and made you look at him, looking into your eyes. it was clear that you hadn’t had the best night.
your soft was soft and a little raspy. “i need you, baby. please. don’t go yet…” you looked at him, your big pleading eyes staring into his soul. and he noticed how your hips were just slightly grinding on his legs. he looked at your body in your robe, seeing as it revealed some of your cleavage. he looked down as you fiddled with your lacy panties, and he knew exactly what you were getting at.
you were making his mind wander. he surely couldn’t go to work without settling this matter, so he sighed as he reached his hands down to his belt, unbuckling it quickly. he pulled you into a passionate kiss, running his hands down your body as he picked you up and set you by the sink, helping you take off your robe. 
he tossed it onto the ground and stared at your body for a moment, fully taking in your beauty. he pulled himself into you, starting to kiss your neck softly as he took off your soaked panties. you ran your fingers through his hair as your body grew warmer. your tongues started dancing together as he slowly rubbed your clit.
you whined as he teased you, but you both knew that you’d have to be as quick as possible. so he lined up his cock with your entrance before pushing it in. you moaned loudly. it felt so good to finally be filled up like this. he wasted no time thrusting into you. you wrapped your arms around his body as he pushed himself in and out of you. 
deep groans were coming out of him. it was clear that he’d wanted this too. he kept your legs apart and circled your clit with his thumb. the room filled with your noises, them surely being loud enough to wake up the entire neighbourhood.
he gently grabbed your face and started speaking to you in between groans. “you feel so good, baby. just wanna make you feel good…” he started going faster with his movements, syncing his fingers with his thrusts. you were a moaning mess, tugging at his hair and feeling yourself losing control.
you started bucking your hips into his touch, feeling your body finally getting the relief that its been craving. he made sure to hit that perfect spot everytime, feeling as your pussy clenched around him. his groans became raspier the more frequent he got. you were both painfully close to such a satisfying orgasm.
his chest heaved up and down with each breath. “cum with me, baby… ” and that was all you needed to hear before completely letting yourself go, releasing all your cum on his cock. he looked down at the white ring around his length as precum started shooting from his tip. with one final thrust, he came inside of you. there was so much that when he pulled out, you were connected by a thick string of cum.
time was running short, so he didnt have to time take care of you like he usually did. so he carried you back to bed, you almost instantly falling asleep as your head hit the pillow. he smiled and pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. then he walked to the door and walked out without a sound.
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author's note: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. so sorry for the delay but i hope you enjoyed it :))
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the-s1lly-corner · 4 months
Note
HELLO HI HI
dlfkwkfowowo im secretly staking ur blog
if this is okay with you…
could there perhaps be a tadc x reader who smiles… but like all the time
like no matter what happens, reader always has a smile on their face to never show weakness!
this can come off as creepy because the only thing fhat you always see is their smile, they never frown, or anything like that
feel free to ignore this though if you aren’t interested! take care! <3
TADC cast x reader who always smiles!
gm everyone its 6 in the morning and the admin woke up at around 2am, unable to go back to sleep.... sooooooooooooo.... yeah! gonna answer a few requests then imma make breakfast, work on art, and hopefully work on more requests! might make cookies again today.... we'll see!
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CAINE:
completely unphased by any creepiness of your perma smile, in fact he would go on to compliment it anytime he sees it... which is... all the time.... whether your smile is permanent due to your digital body, or you willingly choose to smile all the time.. doesnt matter to him, hes going to let you know that he loves how you look! doesnt raise a brow when it doesnt falter in the phase of danger or stress, probably thinks thats... only slightly strange, but not anything to raise any questions... you know? pretty much ai not fully understanding humans deal with that one
POMNI:
genuinely freaked out by it because it can get.. unnerving at times especially if youre quiet. like can you imagine you just slink into the room and youre just. smiling. god she would probably jump a few feet into the air when she finally notices you.... not cool, reader!/lh
nervously smiles back, though she does relax a little when she gets to know you better and why you smile all the time, eventually getting over her fear for the most part! though, i think she would gently push for you to let the smile drop every now and then
RAGATHA:
assuming she knows you do it to not be vulnerable you can bet your ass shes going to try to get you to let your walls down around her, lets you have alone time with her and reassures you that theres nothing wrong in having a moment of weakness. things like that. though, she may come off as pushy just know that she means no harm. like pomni, when first getting used to you/getting to know you i think she would be a little put off by your perma-smile but soon grows used to it. much faster than pomni does, i think
JAX:
probably teases you about it and gives you nicknames for it/being perceived as happy and cheerful... perhaps keeps it up even after he finds out why you do it/puts the pieces together himself. though, he doesnt try to get you to open up, since thats a you issue and jax doesnt seem like the type to have you take a step towards that since it seems to be working for you. sooooo... honestly i think he would still smile too, only because he knows it unnerves some of the other circus members. not at all for the same reason you do it so take that as you will
KINGER:
honestly depending on how the smile looks (normal, or perhaps stretched wide) it might dip into a sort of uncanny valley for him... actually, even if it looked normal, seeing someone just smiling all the time can put anyone off, i think. especially someone like kinger whos always paranoid about something terrible happening... definitely going to have to either drop the smile around him or fill him in on everything. do i think he would be rude and/or run away at the mere sight of you? definitely not, especially if you guys are friends/partners, but hes definitely going to be a little anxious on bad days the first few weeks he knows you, you know?
ZOOBLE:
doesnt really care either way. does think the smile is a little creepy, though. but that doesnt exactly mean its a bad thing, in fact they think its cool. interesting. different. admin likes to headcannon that zooble was into horror/disturbing stuff so something like this might be up their alley, reasoning for the smile aside. though, i do think they would have a little pause if they find out your reasoning... mostly only if you guys are close since otherwise they brush it off as its not their business. buuuuuut... if you are close, they probably tell you theres nothing wrong in being vulnerable, at least in their own way which may come off as sarcastic.. so !
GANGLE:
i was about to say that she would be put off by it, but honestly? she gets it. i saw somewhere/someone said that gangles masks are like metaphors/comedy mask is a false thing and shes not ACTUALLY happy or confident with it on.. if i had the post id link it but </3
out of all of them i think... with her, youre the most likely to drop your own mask and open up to her, at least with the most ease because you guys can relate to one another. sure, gangle has her masks for a different reason (as well as them simply being a part of her digital body), but you guys can still relate and find solidarity in one another
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spenzitz · 10 months
Note
Hello Em!! First of all I want to say that your writing is amazing!! <3 May I request promt 2 with yuta ? 🥺
ily ily ily here you are my dearest mari <333 i hope you like 🥹
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SLEEPING IN THE SAME BED FOR THE FIRST TIME FT. YUTA
you and yuta have an impromptu sleepover. yuta x gn!reader, gamercoded!reader(for my marie), fluff, cuddles, n kisses,
a/n ~ missing yuta hours words ~ 976
☆500 EVENT☆
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you and yuta had barely seen each other all day. you both had been off doing odd jobs and next thing you know, it’s late into the evening, and you’d only ever sent him a good morning text.
after you’ve taken a shower and gotten into your night clothes, you plop yourself onto your bed and check your phone. as you scroll through your notifications, you see a message from yuta from this morning.
gm! i hope you have a good day, ily!!! <3
your heart aches a little. you think it’s pathetic how his lack of presence in your day makes you sad. it’s not like you were bored all day, you were probably more busy than he was. still, the day feels wasted somehow.
you think about how you could respond, probably just a short little “gn! ily!” but why would you let the day go by without seeing him when he’s right down the hall from you?
it’s 8:57 when yuta hears a soft knock on his door. as he climbs out of bed, he smiles to himself, hoping it’s you. when he opens the door, you don’t even give him a moment to blink before stepping forward and wrapping your arms around his waist, ducking your head into his neck.
“h-hey y/n,” he says, chuckling a little. “i was hoping it was you…” he whispers into your head, pressing a few soft kisses. you take a moment to breathe him in, holding him tight. “hey yuu..” you grumble into his chest.
yuta takes a few steps back, just enough to close his door, pulling you along with him. “why don’t we go lay down? i’d bet you’d be much more comfortable.”
“ok…” you mumble into his neck. he chuckles a bit and practically drags you into bed with him. you sit up with your back against his pillow and pull out your switch. yuta gets in bed beside you and pulls the covers over the both of you. he apprehensively hooks his arm around yours and starts scrolling on his phone.
you both sit there for a while, pressed up against each other. you only exchange a few words here and there as it gets later into the night. eventually, you re-adjust your body to lay your head on his lap, still holding your switch a little too close to your face, completely engrossed. yuta takes the opportunity to reach his head down and kiss your forehead.
you pause your game and put down your switch, reaching your hands up to grab his hair and pull him back down. “ow! y/n, what-” you interrupt him with a kiss on the cheek, then his nose, and lastly, his mouth. it’s soft and tender, filled with your desire to be close to one another.
you’re the first to pull away, needing to catch your breath. “just really, really missed you today…” you slur out your words, tired and wholly unaware of the time. you sit up just enough to reach over him to grab your phone off his nightstand. it’s 10:22, and you both have busy days tomorrow, as always.
you sigh as you start to fully sit up, pulling away from yuta, or at least trying to. yuta quickly counteracts your movement by clutching you into his chest. “where are you going?” he says all innocent-like. “yuta.. it’s late, i’ve got to go to bed.” your stern voice is muffled by his t-shirt as you try and fail to escape his grasp.
“then let’s go to bed, hmm?” before you can respond, he takes your phone and switch and place them on his nightstand. he quickly flips off his light and moves to lie under the covers, bringing you down with him.
“yuuuuta…” you whine. “i’ll have to get up earlier to get ready…” even though he can’t see your face in the dark, he can hear the pout in your voice. as if waking up 10 minutes earlier were that large of an inconvenience to you. yuta responds by slipping an arm under your shirt and around your abdomen. he pulls you closer and lays his head on your chest. it’s probably wrong of him to want you to stay, to break your routine for him, but he does. he knows he can be a little selfish with you.
you try to fathom an escape attempt, but your eyes are just so heavy. the longer you lay there, the more your senses are overcome by his citrus body wash, the light inhale and exhale of his half-asleep body. your hand, somehow, finds its way to his hair, still slightly damp from his shower. even worse, yuta lifts his head ever so slightly and starts placing light kisses on your neck, working his way up to your jaw.
you start to tremble and lose your breath, as you’re not used to this much forward affection from yuta. he would never do this in the light of day, or even his room, too scared of the consequences of his vulnerability. it’s more impulse than reason when you tilt his head up and kiss him softly.
when you pull him close, he realizes your shaking and labored breathing. “sorry… didn’t mean to get carried away” he laughs out of nervousness that he overstepped. you pull him into your chest and kiss his forehead. “don’t apologize for loving on me.” he hopes you can’t feel the heat on his face pressed up against you.
you let out a yawn and start running your hand up and down his arm wrapped around you. “i love you.”
“i love you too.” he responds without hesitation.
it’s not long after that the two of you drift into sleep, not caring about all the work you have for tomorrow. that didn’t matter, for now, it’s just the two of you.
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racinggirl · 2 years
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You've got a friend in me || Formula One
type: one shot pairing: formula one drivers x friendly relationship word count: 3k summary: after losing a loved one, you realize who your true friends are requested: yes! 'Hello, could I request a fic about a reader working in F1? She just lost her grandmother due to cancer and the drivers notice it and comfort her. I just lost my gm and can’t really believe it. I know this prompt is kind of delicate so I understand if you don’t feel too comfortable about writing it.’ Requests are OPEN! warnings: mentions of death, mentions of hospitals, mentions of c*ncer, loss of loved ones, sadness, semi-happy ending notes: Hi, first of all, I wanted to say I know what it's like to lose someone you love, so dearly (my father), and lose them to that horrible disease as well. I hope I captured what was needed, it was hard for me, yes, but I also think it's one of the most beautiful things I've written, simply because it feels so close to me. I hope you'll like it, and please let me know what you think <3. Also, if any of you ever struggle with something, just let me know. I am here for every one, no matter what 🫶🏽
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Losing a loved one is something you wish upon nobody, it’s hard and unfair. Life is hard and unfair. No longer hearing their voice, their laugh, the one that made a smile appear on your face in no time. No longer embracing them in a hug, feeling their warmth, their kisses on your forehead or cheek, no longer their love in a physical form. No longer a ‘goodnight’, but instead one last ‘goodbye’.
Losing someone you love, whether it is a father, a mother, a friend, a niece, a lover or a grandparent, is one of the most difficult and challenging things to deal with, especially at a young age. It’s never easy, never. Never hearing their silly comments that made you either laugh or roll your eyes, never greeting them anymore, never holding their hand, counting their fingers like you used to do when you were little, trying to count to ten.
Dealing with loss of someone so dear and close to you was something you wished to never experience, and never had to experience either. Not until you received the news from your parents.
‘’We need you to come over, grandma isn’t doing too good.’’
You had never ignored this many traffic lights, speed limits or fellow car drivers on your way to the hospital. You knew something bad was going to happen, it was something your parents talked to you about a lot this week, the feeling of them knowing more than you did growing every time they started the conversation.
‘grandma isn’t doing great; you should visit her some time soon; grandma has lived an amazing life; she’s doing worse every day.’
The moment you arrived at the hospital, after throttling like the people you worked for did on a race weekend, you knew it was bad, since it wasn’t only you, but also your siblings and your aunts children had gathered at the hospital. All your grandmothers grandchildren, as well as her own children, it being one of the first times your entire family was together, had a hard time keeping a straight face, since they all knew what was going on. Your grandmother was dying.
Cancer, a horrible disease. A fucking horrible disease. One that took away too many people from their loving families. People that didn’t deserve to die. Of course, nobody deserves to die, but when you see a happy, satisfied woman, surrounded by her grandchildren, a smile on her face whenever she, at Christmas, spent time with each child, opening their presents, no matter the age of her grandkids, you’d give everything for her to do that more years. But sadly, life wasn’t on her side, because the cancer that invaded her body, her mind, her soul, took those wonderful Christmas eve’s away from not only her, but the entire family.
It had been a few weeks now since your grandmother passed away, and not wanting the grief to take over your life, you decided going back to work was the best thing to do. Being surrounded by the cars, the people you loved, your second family away from home, felt somewhat comforting. But not completely, not entirely.
All week you weren’t focussed, your breaks you’d spend looking at the pictures you had of your beloved grandma, or calling your parents, because the death of your grandma made you realize how important family is. You tried to turn your emotions down, especially when you were talking to one of the drivers, not wanting to bother them with your pretty messed up life right now.
You were currently in your third year in Formula One, behind the scenes, creating content for Formula One’s Instagram, TikTok and YouTube account. Grill the Grid? One of your works, along with many others of course. You were getting ready in the room the drivers would film their parts, setting up the camera’s, looking over the planners and making sure everybody was at their position in the other room.
First team, Alfa Romeo, alphabetical order. ‘’Valtteri?’’ You called the Finn, giving him a weak smile the moment he got up from his seat and walked towards you. You guided him to the other room, staying silent on the way there, and he noticed, but didn’t dare to say anything about it.
A few teams in, you had gotten the classic ‘are you okay’-question multiple times, Pierre, Yuki, Fernando, Seb and Charles, as well as Carlos, Mick, Kevin and Daniel. You told them you were fine, since it was a lot easier to hold back your tears by ignoring the painful moments, than actually telling them what happened.
Next up, after Daniel, it was Lando’s turn. You continued your procedure, walking to the room, looking at your papers before scanning the rest of the room. ‘’Lando.’’ You turned around, making your way to the other room, knowing Lando’d follow you anyways, he always did.
‘’y/n, are you oka-‘’ ‘’Yes, Lando, I’m fine, can’t be better.’’ You muttered, getting annoyed at the amount of drivers asking you the questions. Lando decided to stay silent, nodding in response, but a frown on his forehead as he walked into the room, not taking his eyes off of you for a good few seconds.
‘’George.’’
‘’Lewis.’’
‘’Alex.’’
Everybody had finished recording, meaning it was time for your well deserved break. You reached for your phone, swallowing thickly at the picture that was now your background. Your grandma, a smile on her face, an arm around you as you did the same to her, both looking at each other, laughing, enjoying the moment together.
‘’Hey.’’ You heard a voice coming from behind, making you turn around, a deep shaky breath stopping the tears from rolling down your eyes.
‘’Max, hey.’’ You smiled weakly at the Dutchman, who had a concerned look on his face. ‘’I did great at the challenge, don’t you think?’’ You laughed weakly, he wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t particularly good either. ‘’Right, almost an A+.’’ You replied, receiving a low chuckle back from the World Champion.
‘’Hey, listen, I talked to Lando, he said-‘’ You sighed heavily, a soft groan escaping your lips as you started walking again, not wanting to show your emotions, not wanting to be weak.
‘’I’m just on my period, okay? I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone, thank you.’’ And with that, you made your way to the F1 hospitality, the one the content creators and other photographers and press would be enjoying their lunch at.
The rest of the day went alright, you did not see any more drivers, some of your co-workers also deciding to leave you alone for the rest of the afternoon and evening, because you made it pretty clear you did not want any company right now.
‘’y/n, wait.’’ You closed your eyes, stopping your steps as you took a deep breath. ‘’Finally, y/n, I’ve been looking for you all day.’’
‘’Lando, seriously, just lea-‘’ You stayed silent as you saw not only Lando, but also Carlos standing next to him. ‘’Oh, hi.’’ You mumbled, looking at the Spanish guy in front of you.
‘’Que pasa muppet?’’ You simply shook your head at Carlos’ question, feeling bad for being rude to them, but you just didn’t want to break down in front of many press or photographers. ‘’Nothing, just, on my period.’’
You were quite close to most of the drivers, being in your early twenties, you were close to their age, shared the same interests and had a lot of fun with them outside working hours here on track. You always made sure to hang out once during the race week, whether it was here at track during your breaks, or back in the Hilton Hotel.
That’s exactly where you were right now, sitting in your room, on your balcony. You were reading a book, one your grandmother once bought you for Christmas some years back, one you’ve probably read more than 10 times already, one of which you almost knew every word before you even started the chapter.
‘’Hey! Y/n! Come join us!’’ You heard a voice coming from downstairs, underneath your balcony was the pool area, a relaxing area and bar. You hoovered over the edge of the balcony, meeting the faces of some drivers. George, Alex, Charles, even Carlos and Max were there.
‘’No thanks, not in the mood.’’ You replied, shooting them a nice but tired smile, feeling once again guilty for rejecting them. You then heard the doorbell, your thoughts being immediately interrupted the moment you heard a knock following the ringing. You quickly made your way towards the front door, looking through the hole to see Pierre standing there, along with Yuki. You opened the door, a frown on your face as you saw the basket Yuki was holding.
‘’Hey, we ehm, heard you weren’t feeling too well, so we got you something.’’ Yuki handed you the basket which was filled with some candles and a bar of chocolate. ‘’My girlfriend said chocolate helps with period pains.’’ He then whispered, making Pierre hit his arm lightly. It brought a small smile to your face, seeing the two of them bickering about what to say, and how to bring it. ‘’Carlos told us you weren’t really in your element today, so we thought maybe this would help, consider it a little less healthy get well soon basket.’’ Pierre chuckled, walking over to give you a hug.
Tears appeared in your eyes, so you quickly closed your eyes, preventing the tears from falling down your face. ‘’Thank you guys, really, it means a lot.’’
The next day, you were walking through the paddock with Seb and Mick, talking to them about this event that was happening. Just work related stuff really. However, Seb noticed you were acting differently, instead of the enthusiastic smile, you just looked down at your papers a little too often for his liking. So once he stood in front of the Aston Martin hospitality, he grabbed your arm, just to pull you in for a hug.
You were caught by surprise, but the hug felt good. You’ve always seen Seb as a father figure, an uncle on track, something you desperately needed, especially right now. ‘’It will be okay, yeah?’’ He didn’t know what happened, but he could sense something was off, and instead of pressuring you to tell him, he decided giving you comfort would be better. And it was, because that hug was the very thing you needed right now.
Later that day, after the second practice was over, you had a small talk with Seb back in the hotel, you trusted him, enough to talk about what happened a few weeks ago. He was very compassionate, taking time to talk to you, let you talk and out your emotions, something you hadn’t done in front of anyone since your grandmother passed away.
After your talk with Seb, your eyes were stained red, a little puffy and the tip of your nose was a light pink shade. You were making your way down to the floor you were positioned at, when you ran into Charles on the way to your room.
‘’y/n?’’ He asked, carefully. He heard from Carlos and Lando you were on your period, and he didn’t want to come across as annoying or rude. He learnt how to deal with periods ever since he and Charlotte had gotten into a relationship.
You were quick in wiping away your tears, knowing that hiding them wouldn’t be something that would fool the Monegasque. ‘’Charles, hey.’’ You mumbled, sniffling as you smiled at him.
‘’What… are you alright? Can I help you?’’ He carefully asked, a worried look on his face. You simply shrugged your shoulders. You already told Seb, so why not tell the rest as well. You trusted them, each one of them, they were your friends.
-
‘’You know.’’ Charles started, once you had finished talking about what happened those past couple of weeks. You were now seated in your room, on the couch. Charles had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, listening to everything you told him.
‘’I’m sorry for your loss, y/n, she seemed like an amazing woman, and I’m sure she’s very proud of you right now.’’ He said. ‘’Seven years ago, I lost Jules, and let me tell you, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to overcome.’’
‘’And I’m not saying it will get easier, because there hasn’t gone a day by I haven’t thought about him, I’m still not over it, and I don’t think I’ll ever will.’’ He pulled you closer to him by bringing his arm further around your shoulder, pressing a light kiss to your forehead.
‘’But I always hang onto the thought they are here, the people we lost.’’ He pointed to his chest when he said ‘here’, the place his heart was. ‘’They are a part of our lives, and as tough as it may be to never be able to hear them talking to us again, know that they are still, every day, a part of our lives, the decisions we make, the things we achieve and the things we do, they are here, you’re not alone.’’
The talk with Charles was good, just like the conversation you had with Carlos when you bumped into him when Charles walked out, he was looking for Charles.
Quali day, one of the most important days of the weekend, the day the positions for the race on Sunday were decided. It was an alright quali, no big crashes, just two yellow flags due to an engine failure or two.
You were back in your hospitality, your mood a little better because of the talks you had with some of the drivers. Lewis had brought Roscoe, the dog of the paddock, the happy energy itself.
‘’Hey, Roscoe boy.’’ You kneeled down, laughing as the dog ran over to you, laying down and rolling over for you to rub his belly. ‘’Good boy.’’ You smiled, looking up to see Lewis kneeling down in front of you.
‘’He has always liked you.’’ He smiled, rubbing Roscoe’s head as you continued rubbing his belly. You smiled at the Brit before lowering your gaze to the dog again. ‘’I talked to Sebastien.’’ A sigh escaped your lips, your eyes meeting his when his comforting smile calmed you instantly. ‘’I’m sorry for your loss, y/n. Know that God is taking good care of your grandmother and I’m sure she is very very proud of you.’’ You nodded, smiling as you slowly got up, standing straight to receive the hug Lewis gave you.
‘’Thank you Lewis.’’
-
‘’Thank you, Max, Daniel, George, it means a lot.’’ You were holding the basket with your favourite drinks and food, a card as well. It had all the names of the drivers on it, as well as a nice little message from each driver. Tears welled up in your eyes as you started to read the first one. ‘’I’ll read them tonight, I don’t want to cry in front of you all.’’ You laughed weakly, placing the basket on the table in your hotel room after stepping forward, embracing all three of them in a tight and warm hug. It felt like home, the drivers being like your brothers, like your family, all of them.
The day after the race, most drivers were already home, getting ready for the next race on the calendar. You too were getting ready to go home, packing your suitcase, when you heard a knock on your door, again, it always became a ritual. You didn’t take a peek through the hole this time, assuming it was one of your co-workers.
However, when you opened the door, you were looking into the blue/green/grey-ish eyes from the McLaren driver, a small smile on your lips as you saw him holding something in his hands.
‘’Hey.’’
‘’Hey.’’
‘’I’m sorry for, well, multiple things, first of all for your loss, and for me being such an idiot to keep asking you what was wrong.’’ He says, scratching the back of his neck lightly.
‘’It’s okay, Lando, don’t worry, I should apologize too, for being such a bitch.’’ You smiled, stepping aside to let the brown haired guy in your room.
‘’No, no, don’t, here, I hope this will make you feel a little better.’’ He says, handing you the present, which was, how do you say this in a nice way? Not professionally packed. You started to rip the paper from the rectangular shaped gift, tears immediately appearing in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you took out the gift.
‘’Lando…’’ You whispered, not believing what you were seeing in front of you.
‘’It’s the least I could do, and I had some help.’’ He smiled weakly, pulling you in for a hug almost instantly. It was true, he and your brother were great friends, so after he did some texting and phone calls, he instantly knew what to give you.
He had bought a frame, a picture frame. He then made a nice collage from some of the pictures your brother had sent him, pictures from you and your grandma, moments you cherished for the rest of your life. He carefully put them in the picture frame, and packed it, as good as he could.
‘’Thank you, thank you so much, you have no idea what this means to me.’’ You whispered, tightening your grip onto his shirt, hugging him as if your life depended on it.
‘’She loves you, y/n. And I’m sure she’s looking down at you right now, the biggest smile on her face. Because she is so proud of the woman you have become, so proud.’’ He whispered.
Grief, one of the hardest things to do, especially when you’re doing it all alone. Grief isn’t something you should experience on your own. It’s okay to take your moments, evaluate things on your own, but you should never have to deal with losses without the help of others. Friends, family, it’s all so important, especially in moments like these. And you know one thing, one important thing the moment your grandmother let out her final breath. With that breath, she told you one of the most powerful things one can have.
I love you
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Chevrolet Citation X-11, 1980. The Citation, using GM’s new X-body platform, was Chevrolet’s first front wheel drive model. The 3-door hatchback was exclusive to Chevrolet with the”sporty” X-11 being fitted with a high-output 2.8 litre V6. It remained in production until 1986 when it was replaced by the Corsica/Beretta
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samuelerssonupdates · 23 days
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March 6, 2024: Nick Seeler signs a 4-year $10.8 million contract extension with the Philadelphia Flyers. (📸)
After leaving the Chicago Blackhawks in January 2021, Nick Seeler took six months off of playing hockey. He was a poor fit in Chicago, which was looking towards a more youthful team, and after his contract was terminated, he returned to his home of Minnesota to relax and reset. In June, he returned to the show when then-Flyers GM Chuck Fletcher signed him to a one-year deal. In that first year with the Flyers, he bounced back and forth between the Flyers and the Phantoms, but earned a permanent spot on the team roster in the 2022-23 season, and when injuries plagued the roster, even moved up to the left wing of the Flyers' fourth line.
This year things have been different. A shot-blocking machine on the third D-pairing with Sean Walker (a member of the Colorado Avalanche as of earlier today), he's become an essential part of the team, and not just on the ice. His teammates on the Flyers have been complimenting his work ethic for years now, and it's widely known that he's a hugely important presence in the locker room.
"He sets an example with his work ethic, as one of the most serious teammates Cam York’s ever known. He willingly sacrifices his body and sticks up for teammates. But he’s a “teddy bear” off the ice, says York and a teacher to rookies and veterans alike." (x)
"One that comes to mind is Nick Seeler. He is absolutely beloved in the locker room, he is a team-first guy, and he’s playing the best year of his entire career. He’s playing over four minutes per game than what he had been prior in his career, he’s a +14, and he stands up for his teammates. I think if they were to move him at the deadline, and if they were still in contention, I think that would bother some players." (x)
Most importantly, Seeler loves living and playing in Philadelphia. He's openly said for years that the team feels like home and that he wants to play for them, even if it means waiting longer for the playoffs or sticking with a rebuilding team instead of going somewhere with real, current Cup aspirations. You have to wonder if the very reasonable $2.7 mil annual salary is in part due to his willingness to be flexible in order to stay here.
During the 2nd period of Flyers-Blues game on March 4th, Seeler took a shot to the ankle and couldn't stand on his skates; play moved to the Blues' side of the ice as he struggled to get up from his hands and knees. When the Flyers on the ice, now shorthanded in the offensive zone allowed the play to move back down to the defensive zone, Seeler lay flat in front of goaltender Samuel Ersson to continue to try and block pucks from getting to the net.
There's a reason we wanted to keep him. And clearly, he's willing to do a lot for it. We are so excited to have you for four more years, Nick, and can't wait to cheer you on for all of them.
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Michael Reaves
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THEME: Revolution
This week’s games have to do with rising up against oppression and tyranny! A very important note: while the tone and tenor of the following games vary in severity, it is a good idea to use safety tools for your table when running these kinds of games, as it is easy to fall into territory that can be uncomfortable to your players. I recommend you check out tools such as the X Card, by John Stavropoulos, and Lines & Veils, by Ron Edwards.
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When the Guilds Pay in Copper, Crime Pays In Gold, by Andrew J. Young.
Ostentia is a city of wealth, magic, and incredible disparity. The city's alchemy guilds hold all the power, with squads of street-level enforcers and an army of mercenaries playing the guilds off each other. The common folk are hired by the guilds to serve in alchemy rituals, draining life from their bodies, paying them their purse of coppers, and sending them home until the next day.
What the city needs is a revolution, but the best you can do is retribution. And distribution. Thwart the guilds' exploitative plots and steal as much gold as you can. And when the job is done, go back to your family, friends, and familiar haunts. Spend your gold to improve your character and use downtime to help your community.
When the Guilds Pay in Copper, Crime Pays in Gold is a two-page tabletop RPG designed to be played with 2 or more players, one of whom should take on the role of a Story Guide to facilitate scene setup and NPC actions and dialogue.When the Guilds Pay in Copper, Crime Pays in Gold's system uses dice pool mechanics with d6s.
If you’re interested in Blades in the Dark but want less pre-defined setting, less rules, and more magic, you might want to check this game out. The players of this game are fighting back against guilds using underhanded methods, but the gold they manage to steal goes into community help, rather than a retirement plan. If you want to hit the bourgeoisie where it hurts without having to read too many rules, and if you want a lighter feel to your game, you might want to check this game out.
And You Shall Shatter Temples, by Anna Landin.
They may be gods, but you are done being faithful.It's time to burn their kingdom down.
Sing songs with the words they could not take from you. Raise the banner woven from the flags you stole back from them. Arm yourself with the swords you forged from their discarded bones.
And You Shall Shatter Temples is a game about rising up against an overwhelming power that is trying to crush you. All you have is what you carry with you, and those who rise up by your side. Together, you can turn the tide. Together, you can dethrone a god.
This is a GM-less game that uses playing cards and d6s to help determine what you do and where the story goes. The main premise is that there are gods, but you get to decide what kind of world they have ruined, and how you bring them to their knees. The game brings you through three stages, with each stage bringing you closer and closer to dethroning a god. The creator offers the text-only version for free, and encourages that you support real-world causes that fight oppression instead!
Hunting Billionaires for Sport, by Vex Chat-Blanc.
It's exactly 1 year since people first started hunting billionaires for sport. In that time the sport has grown at an extraordinary rate, giving rise to both the Extrajudicial Means Distribution Union and Nero.tv. Nations around the world have enacted a total ban on firearms and ammunition sales, as well as dedicated buyback schemes for existing guns. Science and arts have seen a simultaneous market boon, and their advances have integrated seamlessly into daily life. Welcome to 2023.
A game for 1 session runner and 2-5 hunters. It's easy to pick up, simple to explain, provides a quick reference sheet for those new to the rules. It contains interesting and variable character advancement, and a progressive and gentle introduction to more advanced rules. World-building, character background, collaborative action, and character retirement are all tied together mechanically.
If you want to see a game where Billionaires’ greed is what allows for the revenge of the masses, this is the game for you. The setting is incredibly tongue-in-cheek, and the characters are both powerful and competent. Character skills are classified as either Limelight (flashy) or Lowlight (concealed), and can be Active, Passive, or Reactive. You’ll also have Beats that drive your character forward and tie you into the fiction, as celebrities on a high-profile streaming service. If you like the idea of turning modern capitalism back onto itself, this might be the game for you!
Compromise / / Empire, by Swamphen.
The forces of the Empire, the forces of totalitarianism and exploitation, are invading. They have secured a foothold, and want complete control. Their soldiers trample the land, their spies and diplomats are in your places of power, time is limited.
You represent a faction. One of the factions who are working to resist the Empire. As a representative you must extend a hand and form whatever alliances you can with the other factions at play. Resisting the Empire will cost you, and your faction. Compromises must be made.
Compromise//Empire is a GMless roleplaying game for 2-3 players about forming temporary alliances and resisting empire. Each player takes the role of a faction forced into an unlikely alliance. You must represent your agenda while making compromises to fight against the forces of empire.
This is another game that allows you to decide exactly what kind of world you’d like to play in. Crises will arise over the course of the game, and you will attempt to find a solution that makes you and your allies happy. Success is not guaranteed in this game - you may find a way to work together, but your plans may also fall apart. If there is a setting or game you’d like to set-up for, this is an excellent option! 
Voidheart Symphony, by UFO Press.
here’s a wound in the world, a rot eating at hope and community and empathy. You’ve seen it in dark alleyways and gleaming boardrooms, gifting terrible power to those who will use it to hurt others. You’ve had enough. You’re going to dive through that wound into the nightmare castle on the other side. You’re going to find the avatar of the one bringing you misery, and strike them down.
But what’s next, once you’ve stolen their power and ruined their ambitions? Will you return to your daily grind? Cherish those who are close to you? Or revel in the power you have taken from the void? Because within that wound, the castle waits, and it is hungry.
Voidheart Symphony is a tabletop roleplaying game about mundane people diving into a demon-filled labyrinth to save the ones they love. Based on Apocalypse Worldand Rhapsody of Blood, it’ll fill your story with dramatic choices and dynamic action. Your rebels each have a core strength – they may be an Authority, a Provider, a Watcher. But your enemy is far too great for you to face alone. 
If you’re interested in the Persona series, this game is probably up your alley. Shadowy powers lurk behind everyday folks, and your rebellion may not ever make it to the front page. You are heroes behind the scenes, fighting for the freedom of folks who may never know to thank you. If you like the idea of being unsung heroes in the modern day, you should check this game out!
Spire: The City Must Fall, by Rowan, Rook & Decard.
Spire is a mile-high impossible city, older than anyone can remember. Two hundred years ago, the high elves – or aelfir, strange and beautiful masked creatures from the far north – took it from the dark elves by force. Now, they graciously allow dark elves, or drow, to live in the city if they perform four years of service to an aelfir lord once they come of age. Spire is crumbling from within and without; it is ancient, and has been built and rebuilt countless times, and at the centre of the mass there is a jagged, weeping hole in reality called the Heart. It is a nightmarish, dizzying place of perverse luxury and widespread destitution, where drow labourers toil in vast gardens and sweltering factories to produce treasures for their masters.
Spire is a roleplaying game about desperate revolutionary dark elves caught up in a secret war against the high elves, or aelfir, who rule the towering city of Spire. The world of Spire is a brutal one, and players can expect to see their characters suffer at the hands of their oppressors, or their rivals; bodily harm, psychological scarring and reprisals against their allies are commonplace. But for those willing to do what it takes, Spire is on the brink of full-scale rebellion, and you are poised to push it over the edge.
This game uses a D10 system that uses dice pools to determine success -  the highest number indicates whether or not you are successful, and how successful you are. The rebellion in this game is dark and vicious; the characters are pushed to do terrifying things in the name of death, vindication, and revenge. This is a fantasy game through and through, but make sure to bring some safety tools to the table, as a game of Spire can easily turn bloody and grim.
If you are interested in this setting but want a game about dungeon-delving instead, you can try Heart: The City Beneath, by the same company.
Previously advertised games that fit this theme:
Balikbayan: Cyberpunk Elementals escaping enslavement. Brinkwood: Brigands fighting against Vampires. Rising Tide: Eco-Justice pirates hitting Corporations at sea.
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honourablejester · 3 months
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Numenera Oddities
So. Numenera does the thing I love from D&D 5e, and that is trinket tables. Or, in this case, oddity tables.
Oddities are ancient salvaged techno-magical items that aren’t necessarily directly useful, like the more powerful one-shot cyphers or reusable artefacts, but are more there for the flavour of the world. Characters often start with them, GM assigned, and I assume you can find more of them out and about. And … I do love them. These are from the Oddity Table on pgs 305-307 of the Discovery corebook, and they’re just … so illustrative of this future fantasy, scavenger world, 'remants of past civilisations' setting.
I think one of the things that I most love is that, from the characters’ POV, in their medieval fantasy setting, these are inscrutable artefacts of a bygone civilisation, but from our POV, with our technology, you can so clearly see what some of them are intended to be:
26 – Series of thin plastic cards that show all kinds of unknown creatures. (Somebody had trading cards or card games during the past billion years)
20 – Plastic bottle that contains a spray that cleans any stain and never runs out. (Somebody finally invented a universal household cleaner, an infinite universal household cleaner, I bet they made an absolute mint)
30 – Metallic jar that maintains the temperature of liquid inside indefinitely. (Somebody made an improved thermos)
60 – Cup that instantly boils any liquid poured into it. (As well as an instant tea/instant pot noodle/instead meal cup)
33 – Small wand-like device that keeps away normal insects in a 5ft radius. (As well as mobile personalised insect zappers)
55 – Shirt that displays your muscles, bones and internal organs when you wear it. (And, for whatever reason, a portable x-ray shirt? Was this a practical invention first, for field x-rays, or was it for funsies, or both?)
58 – Bracelet with a tiny bell charm that rings like a massive bell when intentionally rung. (Personal protective device?)
80 – A bracelet that rends you unable to reproduce while worn. (An easy, non-invasive contraceptive device, interesting)
76 – Ceramic ring that makes you feel as though gentle hands are caressing your body. (As well as a possible sex toy? Or aide for touch-hunger? Not going to lie, if I touched this with no context and no idea what it was going to be, I’d freak the hell out)
79 – A pair of small, floating cubes that keep a small, enclosed room at the temperature at which water freezes. (Portable refrigeration)
Like, a lot of these are clearly futuristic novelty items or household appliances, as well as some more in-depth and casual medical technology. And I love that? I love that. You’re in a medieval fantasy scavenger world where the detritus of past super-futuristic civilisations litter your world, and you’re there picking up random bits of ancestor junk and trying from your own frame of reference to figure out what the fuck they had going on.
Some of the oddities are a bit more inscrutable even from our POV.
7 – Box with a tiny group of musicians in it who play when it is opened and look horrified when it is closed. (Now, this could be a novelty item again, but this is also a setting where ancient crystal obelisks eat people and trans-dimensional portals and pocket dimensions are also a thing, so … not beyond the bounds of possibility that those are live and enslaved musicians getting shunted into a pocket stasis dimension every time you close the lid)
And some have a language barrier in effect:
16 – Small rod that emits a voice saying the same thing in an unknown language every time a button is pushed. (Could be anything from a personal memo to an ancient distress call)
47 – Five metallic plates that orbit around your head and display ever-changing, unknown symbols. (I fucking love this one, if I was a scholar in this world I would dedicate my life to figuring out this language from the presumption that those symbols are some form of reading from me and if I can just figure out what they’re reading from what symbols show when, maybe I can Rosetta stone this language out? I mean, that’s a lot of assumptions, but you’d have to at least try, right?)
There’s also a series of oddities that are clearly communication/monitoring devices:
17 – Glass plate that shows what seems to be a live image of the moon, but from a closer vantage.
43 – Glass cube that shows what seems to be a live aerial view of an unknown, ruined city.
89 – Plate of glass that, when you view the night sky through it, reveals ten times as many stars.
And we, the players, know that the setting does have ancient satellites still in orbit around the planet, full of nanomachines and other ancestors-know-what. So these are clearly receivers for satellite feeds, or possibly in the last case a light-pollution filter. Though I’d be interested to know if that last one is a live image, or if it’s an image of the stars of this world several million years ago.
And then, in the midst of all that, there are several oddities that are clearly just art, or novelties, or just for fun:
57 – Amulet that, when worn, projects holographic images of fish swimming around you.
Is this a nightlight? A holographic art piece? A fun fashion accessory? I don’t know, but I desperately want one, and no matter how useless it is, I would not sacrifice this one oddity for any number of more useful cyphers or artefacts. It’s pretty, and I love it.
I love the design philosophy of these, the illustration of the world and its history that they provide. And, I mean, some of them, like D&D trinkets, can also function as plot hooks. Where is that unknown city on the live feed? Are those musicians real people trapped in a horrifying pocket dimension? Could you Rosetta-stone one of the ancient languages from that metallic plate device, and if you could, what other, potentially more powerful secrets would it unlock?
They’re just … I love trinkets. I love environmental worldbuilding, I love archaeology, I love the illustration of setting inherent in physical objects. These are fantastic.  
Trinket tables are the best. Honestly, if you are designing a game, do put in a class of objects that don’t exist for any mechanical, game purpose, but are just there to show your world. To show the ethos of your world via the tiny details and physical objects that populate it.
Also, this game appears to be, to a large extent, ‘fantastic archaeology: the setting’, and I’m here for it. Absolutely!
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mendeshoney · 7 months
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take me back to eden (part 2/2)
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Summary: Andrei’s retired, Assistant GM of the Carolina Hurricanes, and a little lonely, so he decides to be a little like Edward Lewis. 
Part One.
Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader
Part 2 Word Count: 22,150
Warnings: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, basically “pretty woman” with andrei, love at first sight(Ish), he falls first, she falls too, he falls harder, sugar daddy vibes, angst, fluff, smut, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex
December
You two decided you can’t possibly wait until it gets closer to Christmas to celebrate together, so you celebrate ahead of time, wanting to spend as much time together before you leave to go visit your family and he leaves to visit his family.
He takes you out to dinner and a movie, something lowkey and relaxed before you both head home to exchange gifts before bed. 
You’re waiting in his living room after you showered together, relaxed in cotton shorts and an old Hurricanes shirt of his, wet hair freshly brushed (by him, of course, how could he not?) and smelling like the honey and almond lotion you put on your body before bed. You’ve even got those little under eye patches on your face, and he doesn’t think there’s a single thing you could wear that would make him believe you were anything but drop dead gorgeous. 
He’s going first, so he grabs your gift from a hidden spot in his office before trailing back out into the living room, sitting on the ground in front of the couch in his sweatpants, his naked torso resting back against it. The gift box in his hands feels simultaneously like it’s too much and not enough all at once.
You grin excitedly, holding your hands out and he places the box carefully in your palms. “Can I open it now?” 
“Of course you can,” he laughs, and you let out a small squeal, carefully peeling away the wrapping that definitely did not take him twenty minutes to figure out, eyes gauging your reaction as the wrapping falls away and you lift the lid off of the box.
He got you a brand new sketchpad to draw in, one bigger than the current journal you have, along with pencils, charcoal, and colored pencils, and a tote to keep and carry them all in. It felt…so simple, buying them for you, he wasn’t sure it was enough.
But then you’re putting the gift box aside and launching yourself at him from your spot on the carpet, tackling him to the plush material and peppering kisses all over his face as you whisper “Spasibo” over and over into his skin.
He’s laughing like a maniac by the time you both sit back up, and you frame his face with your hands, eyes wet with happy tears. “Thank you, Andrei. It’s the best gift I’ve ever received.”
“You’re welcome, malyshka. I’m happy you like it.” 
The kilowatt smile that spreads across your face is worth it, and you bend to kiss the tip of his nose. “I love it. Now you have to open your present.”
“You are my present, almaznyy,” he says quietly, thumb rubbing the remaining happy tears off of your face. “The only present I’ve been selfish enough to give myself. I don’t need anything else. I don’t want anything else.”
You smile softly, shaking your head. “Too bad, we agreed on getting each other one gift. This is mine to you and you have to open it.”
Before he can protest, you’re scrambling up and off of him and running off to…somewhere in his house. He thinks it’s the sunroom? But then you’re running back into the living room, and you’ve got a box and an envelope in your hands, and you’re placing them in front of him very carefully.
He narrows his eyes at you playfully, but you just stick your tongue out at him. Andrei scoffs, “That’s cute, almaznyy. Get it out of your system now.”
“Will you just open it, Andrei?” You practically whine, and he laughs.
“Which one first, the envelope or the box?”
You glance at both before you point to the box, and then he’s removing the wrapping, carefully opening the lid and lifting the tissue paper.
When he dips his hands inside, he feels something ceramic, and then he’s lifting it out of the box. 
It’s a white bowl with a circular lid, and on the lid is an extremely accurate, hand-painted Carolina Hurricanes logo. Both sides of the jar have your perfect cursive on them, the word “sakhar” on both sides in Cyrillic script.
Sugar.
He laughs out loud, and your smile widens, a soft and breathy laugh leaving your lips.
“Very cute, malyshka, I love it.” He says, leaning over to give you a kiss, but you press a finger to his lips, shaking your head.
“Nuh uh, open the envelope next, and then you can kiss me if you still love it.”
He obeys, gently setting the sugar bowl between his legs before opening the envelope and pulling out a voucher.
It’s for a place called “The Spinning Wheel” in Raleigh, a pottery making and pottery painting studio. The voucher indicates a reserved time for a couple of days from now, in the evening for a “Wine and Wheel” event, and then a pending time for a second session called “Wine and Design.”
He’s quiet for a moment, soaking it in. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you fiddling with your hands, and you clear your throat, clearly anxious about his reaction. “I uh…that’s where I painted the sugar bowl for you. The owner of the studio is someone I met through Eden. She opened it when she left, and told me about these events. Usually they’re sold out, since a lot of couples tend to do it, but she managed to save us a spot. I checked your game schedule, and you’re free that night, so I thought…well,” you laugh, a nervous sound. “I thought it might be fun? To do it before we leave for the holidays.”
He doesn’t say anything at first, too stunned at what he’s holding in his hands, and then words are spewing from his mouth, far too fast for him to process. “Are you asking me on a date?”
Now it’s your turn to be quiet, but it only lasts for a few seconds before you burst out laughing, not in a mocking way, but in a delighted way. He knows your delighted laughs anywhere, and it brings him comfort.
“I guess I am,” you admit, and his heart pounds uncontrollably in his chest.
You’re asking him on a date.
A date!
You’re the one planning to spend time with him, and you’re basically asking him on a date.
He feels nothing like the thirty two year old man he is and instead like he’s a teenager all over again. It’s absolutely perfect, and not just because he gets to go on a date with you, but also because he knows how much you love art, and he just wants to do anything that's going to make you happy and make you think of him. 
He carefully moves his gifts aside, careful not to knock over the bowl or ruin the voucher, and then he’s grabbing you by your ankle, dragging you over to him and into his lap, hands descending into your wet hair and pulling you down for a kiss. 
You relax into him, hands resting on his shoulders and opening up for him the way he loves, allowing him to ease the kiss into the right side of filthy, one of his hands escaping from your tresses to band around your back so he can turn you both, laying you on the carpet.
Your lips form into a small smile that he continues to kiss, and then you’re giggling, and he laughs, pulling back a little. “What is it?”
“If I knew you were going to kiss me this much I would’ve hung mistletoe.” You tease.
Andrei shakes his head, “I don’t need to use a silly plant as an excuse to kiss you, I’ll do it anyway. As many times as I want.”
“Sounds good to me.” You say, but when he bends his head to kiss you, you stop him again, pressing a finger to his lips.
He groans in frustration, pretending to nip at your finger before resting his forehead against yours. “What is it?”
“You didn’t give me an answer.” You whisper, and when he raises a brow in confusion, you smile shyly. “If you’d go on a date with me.”
He groans, a happy one, pressing his lower half into yours. “Almaznyy, the answer is always going to be yes. If it’s not, I want you to start planning my funeral, got it?”
You burst out in laughter, and Andrei swallows your happy noises as he kisses you, feeling like a believer in Christmas miracles for the first time in his life.
~
A few nights later, you’re at The Spinning Wheel, both of you sitting on your own stools with a pottery wheel in front of you. There’s a side table on either side of him just like there is for everyone else, one side holding a glass of wine and a plate of tea sandwiches, and the other side holding a bowl of water and a couple of supplies for people to use to shape or trim their pieces.
There’d been a quick demonstration by Hallie, your former co-worker at Eden and current owner of the shop, showing everyone how to center the clay and then eventually morph it into either a vase, a pot, a bowl, or a plate, and everyone had also been shown how to make a lid if needed. It all looked so easy, yet Andrei felt a bit like he was a baby again - learning to skate for the first time and falling on his ass every third step.
You however, of course, had been doing great, and after his third attempt at trying to center his clay and failing, he sits up with a frustrated noise, dipping his hands in the bowl of water before wiping it on the towel resting on his thigh. He reaches for his wine glass, content to just drink and watch you enjoy yourself. 
It’s like watching a good player step onto the ice for the first time. The way you expertly move and maneuver yourself and the clay, similar to the way a good player glides across the ice, handling the puck like it’s an extension of themselves. 
He doesn’t know how long he watches you for. His eyes skate over your hair gathered in a ponytail, stray strands falling out and framing your face, watches the way your brows pinch together in concentration and how your lip gets trapped between your teeth when you’re focusing particularly hard. He observes you, sipping on his wine until you’re sitting up from where you hunched over the wheel, wiping your forehead carefully with the back of your wrist, and then you’re glancing at him with a small smile.
Andrei returns your smile, gesturing to your mini hexagonal vase. “Nice job, malyshka.”
“Thank you,” you beam at him, then look at his wheel, and back up to his face. “Are you taking a break?”
He shakes his head. “Giving up for now, I can’t center it.”
You scoff a little, like you don’t believe for a second there isn’t a thing he can’t do, abandoning your wheel and instructing him to put his wine glass down, ordering him to switch places so that you’re both sitting on opposite sides of his wheel, but now your foot is in control of the pedal. You grab the clay from the board and size it down to match the little vase on your wheel, slapping it to the center once it’s kneaded enough.
He gathers a little bit of water on the sponge like Hallie told them to, squeezing it onto the mound before tossing it back into the bowl and putting his hands on the clay. You place your hands atop his, beginning to guide him through the motions. 
“Press tight, like this,” you say, and Andrei obeys, welcoming the guiding pressure of your hands on his as he sneaks glances at you. 
“You’re good at this,” he notes.
“My brother’s the sculptor, really.” You respond, voice soft in the loud room, moving his hands to squeeze at the clay a little more, bringing it upwards. “He taught me about pottery, even bought me my first pottery wheel. I liked it, for a time, but drawing always felt more natural to me.”
“How long did you do it for?” He asks, watching as you bring your thumbs to the center of the clay, slowly forming a hole
“Pottery? Maybe five years.” 
He nods absently, pinching the sides of the clay with you. “Why’d you stop?”
One of your shoulders lifts in a shrug. “I lost the joy in it when my brother started acting more like a teacher and less like a brother about it, so I just stuck to drawing.”
He nods, then swallows. Hesitates. “You’re not close?”
“Not so much,” you admit. “He’s still my brother and I’ll always love him, but we lead different lives. Can you grab that wood rib?”
Andrei frowns in his head because he wants to ask more about your family. You already said you weren’t missed by anyone back home, and still seemed reluctant to head back for Christmas. A strained relationship with your brother explains some things, but not everything, and he wants to know everything he can about you.
About his almaznyy.
Still, he follows your lead and drops the subject, doing as you ask, grabbing the wood rib as you shut off the wheel, then placing your hand on his. Together, you shape his small vase into a similar fashion to yours, and then grab the wire cutter to separate both your vases from the board, placing them on a little stand for them to be fired on.
After that, Andrei’s content to continue watching as you make little matching lids, poking holes in them and presenting them to him with a shy smile. “They can be salt and pepper shakers,” you say, “to match your sugar bowl.”
And who is he to ever say no to anything you suggest? To deny planting more parts of you, of the two of you, in his house?
A week later, you both head back to The Spinning Wheel to paint your salt and pepper shakers. 
You insist on the fact that they don’t have to look perfect, and though Andrei disagrees, he lets you persuade him into blindly choosing random colors to paint the shakers with, and the two of you sit for another hour and a half painting them. 
Another week and a half later, when you’ve gone back to Manhattan and he’s getting set to head out to San Jose, he goes back to The Spinning Wheel and picks up your matching salt and pepper shakers.
To anyone else, they probably look hideous - a mishmash of turquoise, yellow, pink, and green, but to him, they look so cute and silly, and he takes them straight home, where they quickly become the most out of place things in his completely lavish, state of the art kitchen, right next to his new sugar bowl.
~
January
He wakes up to his two year old niece, Mila, jumping on his chest, babbling her demands that her uncle wake up and entertain her.
“Mila,” her mother calls from the doorway. “That’s enough honey, let’s let Uncle Andrei get ready and then he can spend some time with you okay?”
Andrei brings Mila close to his chest and presses a kiss to her temple, before lifting to hand her off to Sara. 
“Mama’s made breakfast,” Sara says as she leaves. “It’s ready when you are.”
“Thanks,” he calls after his sister in law, before she shuts the door to the guest room behind her and Andrei falls back against the pillows.
He’s been here at Evgeny’s house for about a week now, enjoying some much needed time with his family celebrating the New Year and Russian Christmas. Not that he doesn’t miss being with you, but he hadn’t realized in the whirlwind of being swept up in your orbit that he had kept in touch with his family, but hadn’t really paid attention.
Evgeny and his mom still regularly sent him photos of Mila, his two year old niece, and Luka, his three month old nephew, but he didn’t realize how big they’d gotten since he’d last seen them, so it was nice being able to just be with them before they got too old to care or think he was still the cool uncle.
He grabs his phone on the bedside table, answering some emails and responding to meeting requests for when he’s back in Raleigh next week. The team has been doing so well over the last couple of months, making his days pretty even keel, and with the All Star Game approaching next month, things are probably going to start picking up again, especially as the team makes a push for the postseason. 
The second he reaches the bottom of his inbox, he’s texting you, asking if you’re up and if he can call or FaceTime with you.
You answer by FaceTiming him first, and he smiles wide, swiping the green button and feeling peace settle in his bones when your face lights up his screen.
“Privet krasavitsa,” he says, voice still raspy from sleep. Hi beautiful.
You blink, laughing a little. “I’m sorry, did you need a second to wake up?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’ve been up for a bit.” You nod, and he takes note of the plain white walls of your room. “You with your family?”
“No,” you say, a strange tone in your voice. “I’m at my apartment.”
“Oh,” he says, a small crease forming between his brows. “Everything okay?”
You flash him a half smile. “Yeah, better now. What about you? How are things going with you and your family?”
“Good,” he says, settling back against his pillows a little more. “It’s been good to see them again.”
“That’s good, I’m happy you’re having a good time.”
“Wish I could’ve brought you, almaznyy,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing over the screen, pretending he’s caressing your cheeks. “I miss you.”
You smile softly at him, eyes alight with fondness. “I miss you too, Andrei.”
“After this,” he starts, feeling a little hesitant. “Would you want to come back to Raleigh with me? You don’t have to, obviously, if you’re busy.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “No Andrei, I’m not busy. I’d love to go back.”
“Good,” he says, releasing a relieved breath. “I liked having you there.”
“I like being there,” you agree. “With you.”
“I’ll be back next week on Wednesday.”
“Then I’ll be there Thursday.”
“It’s a date, almaznyy,” he says quietly. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
You smile softly at him, shaking your head. “I won’t.”
~
The day after you come back to him, Andrei has to go into the office at PNC Arena, but he ends up being able to head home early. He picks up lunch for the both of you on the way from your favorite bistro, along with roses, and pints of your favorite ice cream and all of your favorite toppings. 
When he pulls into the driveway and heads inside, he toes off his shoes, surprised to find that the house is quiet, and he goes about putting the ice cream away, setting your lunch on the counter, and resting your roses in a vase.
He listens for you, but when he doesn’t hear the shower running, or any sign of movement from the living room or dining room, he sighs happily to himself a little, knowing he’s probably going to have to play your little game of hide and seek. He sheds his blazer, resting it on the counter before starting on his little diamond hunt.
The usual spots you’re in come up empty. You’re not in the kitchen or else he would’ve seen you as soon as he got home. You’re not in his office, the living room, the sunroom, or relaxing out back on the patio. He knows you wouldn’t be in any of the guest rooms, because he’s made it clear you have no business in there since you’re not a ‘guest.’
You fought him a little on that, because technically you are a guest, but all it took was him threatening to put your name next to his on the deed to the house and a few kisses to get you to see it his way.
He makes his way down to the basement instead, and pauses in the small living space to decide which way you could have gone. He doesn’t hear any noise in the entertainment room to  his left, so he opens the door to his right that leads to his home gym, and immediately stops in his tracks, eyes fixed to your body and his entire attention and focus on you.
You’re laying on one of the yoga mats, your headphones in and doing what looks like yoga in front of the mirrors along the wall. 
A smirk on his face, Andrei crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorway, content to just watch you through the mirror. You’re in a sports bra and tighter than should be legal bike shorts, and you’ve got your eyes closed as you listen to music and work through the movements.
You’re currently in a low forward lounge, your forearms resting on the mat as your head hangs a little bit. It makes your ass look amazing, and all he can think of doing is heading over, pushing you down on all fours, tearing those shorts off of your body, and taking you in front of the mirror till you beg for more.
Actually, that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He’s just biding his time now, waiting for an opening to touch you.
His brows raise a little in anticipation as he tilts his head, watching as you switch legs effortlessly, lunging on your other side. When you bring your extended leg back in, and move into a bridge position, then downward dog, his pants tent at the view of your full ass staring at him, and he loosens his tie a little, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up his arms until they rest at his elbows. 
You press backward, extending your legs a little, and your head hangs, eyes still shut as you mouth along to the music in your headphones, and then for a second, he thinks he can hear the song change, and when it does, your eyes open slowly, and then you’re looking at him from your spot upside down.
He smiles when you blink in surprise, your body faltering a little, but still staying put, and then you’re smiling, letting out a nervous laugh. 
“Hi,” you mutter out, reaching one hand up to remove your headphones and put them to the side. 
“Hi almaznyy,” he practically purrs, openly checking you out.
You move slowly until you're kneeling again, sitting up as you look at Andrei in the mirror with your hands on your thighs. “What are you doing home so early?”
Home. He loves how that word sounds on your lips.
“Got out early, so I thought I’d surprise you. I even bought us lunch.”
“Oh,” you say with a smile, “Well, let me just clean up and shower and I’ll-”
“No no,” he’s quick to interrupt, finally moving from his resting spot against the doorway and entering the home gym. “I think you’re gonna stay there for a little bit longer.”
You hold eye contact with him in the mirror as he comes up behind you, tilting your head at him curiously. “Am I?”
“If you want your presents, then yes.” He says firmly, getting onto the mat and settling on his knees behind you. He wraps his arm around you from behind, his hand coming to rest at the base of your throat. You both watch as his hands gently stroke at the skin there before trailing to where the strap of your sports bra rests against your shoulder.
“What kind of presents?” You ask, your breathing starting to deepen, chest rising and falling as he continues to touch you, running his fingers across your collarbone. 
“The kind you like.” He says, “The sweet kind.”
You pout a little at him in the mirror. “That could be anything.”
He leans down, pressing his lips gently to the shell of your ear. “Then I guess you’ll just have to trust me then, won’t you?”
Slowly, he brings both of his hands to the middle of your back and presses down gently, murmuring “On all fours, almaznyy.”
You obey, moving forward until you’re resting on your forearms, shins to the ground and ass high in the air.
Andrei tries to maintain a modicum of decorum and works very hard not to drool at the beautiful heart shape of your ass.
“Krasivyy,” he murmurs. Beautiful.
He grabs at the waistband of your bike shorts, pulling them down your legs slowly like he’s unwrapping the perfect gift, pulling them off and carefully folding them before placing them beside him on the floor. He helps you out of your sports bra next, careful to fold that too before placing it atop your shorts and lowering you back down on all fours. 
He palms your ass cheeks in his hands, spreading them until your pussy opens up to him like a rose, and all he sees is sweet, shiny pink staring back at him. 
“Andrei-” you call out, but you’re cut off when he buries his face into your core from behind, a loud cry leaving your mouth instead. 
He licks you for a little while, content to just taste you for his own pleasure. It’s noisy and messy, and he can tell when you start to squirm that you’ve had enough of his teasing. You push back into his face, searching for more friction, more of his mouth on you in the places he knows you need, but he squeezes your flesh tighter in his hands, keeping you where you are so he can devour you until his heart’s content. 
It’s only when you start to shake in his hands, your breathing coming out in little whines, that he feels his heart twist a little bit, and he pauses to speak against your skin. 
“Do you want to come?” 
He meets your eyes in the mirror, watches as you blink slowly, blissed out and yearning, and you nod, your lower lip captured between your teeth.
Andrei rises up on his knees then, removing his tie and he wags his finger at you in the mirror, beckoning you to sit up. 
You do, rising up and allowing Andrei to maneuver you until your hands are behind your back, wrists crossed over one another at the base of your spine. He secures his tie around your wrist, making sure it’s not too tight that it digs into your skin, but that it’s still tight enough for you to move your arms a little in case you get uncomfortable. 
Slowly, he helps lower you down until your cheek presses against the mat, and then he’s unbuttoning his dress shirt, removing his belt, and unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He pushes them down to his thighs, followed by his boxer briefs, and he hisses a little when his cock springs free and hits his belly, feeling far too sensitive.
He locks eyes with you from your place on the mat, watches you watch him as he strokes his cock a couple of times before running the head between your wet folds. You whine a little when the head of his cock catches on your entrance a couple of times, then the third time it happens, he finally pushes in, watching in amazement as his cock disappears inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside of you.
Your mouth is open on a silent cry, back arching and pressing into him, almost like you’re trying to get him deeper. 
Andrei’s never taken you like this before. He much prefers looking at you the whole time, enjoys watching you and taking in all of your facial expressions, the way your body moves and responds to him. 
There are perks to this though.
Like the fact that as he pulls his hips back and pushes back in, he can watch you take him over and over again, completely fascinated by the way you grip him. Or the fact that when he starts to fuck you in earnest, your hands start to squirm, so used to reaching up and tugging on his hair or leaving scratches down his back, his chest, his abdomen. He gives you one of his hands to hold onto, the other remaining secure on your waist so he can pull you back onto his cock and keep things to the pace he’s setting. 
He also really likes the fact that you keep your cheek pressed to the mat, making sure he can see every single expression on your face as he drives into you over and over, getting you closer and closer to your orgasm that it makes him pump his hips to fuck you deeper, just a little harder, and loves how your thighs smack together against his with the change of pace.
You cry out his name, and then your eyes are screwing shut, bottom lip trembling, and Andrei squeezes your hand in his, pulls you onto his cock over and over as more whines spill from your lips.
“Come for me, almaznyy,” he says, leaning over you to whisper in your ear. “Come for me while I fuck you in front of this mirror.”
Your eyes fly open then, head turning a little to meet his gaze in the mirror, and he watches you, watches for that blissful expression to cross your face at the same time that your pussy clenches down on his cock, so impossibly tight, and then you’re whole body is shaking under him, a silent cry leaving your lips as your orgasm floods through you.
It’s so beautiful, such a gorgeous thing to watch, that he’s coming inside of you, body going rigid as he pumps his come deep inside, feeling you clench pulse against him as he does.
As your orgasms subside, Andrei carefully removes the tie from around your wrists, watching as your arms fall limply to your sides. He gently rests over you, gathering his thighs close to yours as he rolls you both onto your sides, careful to keep himself inside of you as he goes. 
He reaches up, brushing your hair away from your neck to press a kiss there, murmuring “My almaznyy.”
You hum, completely content in his arms, pressing your body further back against his. “Does that mean I get my presents?”
Andrei barks out a laugh, wrapping his arms around you to keep you close. “Like I could ever say no to you after that.
~
Later that night, you’re sitting on the barstools in front of his massive kitchen island, eating the ice cream Andrei bought straight from the tub.
You grab the can of whipped cream beside you and dollop a little on both of your tubs, grabbing the caramel drizzle next and swirling it around. He smiles, tacking on a “Spasibo almaznyy” before he digs back in.
“What does it mean?” You ask him after a beat, and Andrei’s too caught up in watching the way you lick your ice cream off of your spoon to register what you’re asking. You laugh when you notice what he’s looking at, and nudge him a little with your shoulder. “Hey!”
He blinks, snapping out of his daze. “Huh?”
“What does it mean?” You ask again, and his brow furrows.
“What does what mean?” He says, taking a lick of his ice cream, and feeling satisfied when your eyes track his mouth.
But you don’t get caught up in it the way he does. “What you always call me, ‘almaznyy,’ what does it mean?”
He laughs, tilting his head. “You haven’t Googled it yet?” 
You shrug, “I would have, but I’d rather hear it from you. What does it mean?”
“It’s a nickname,” he explains, which is technically half true. It’s his nickname for you.
“What does the nickname mean?” You push, bending your head a little to steal a lick at his ice cream. He feigns upset for a split second before he’s smiling at you again.
Even when he’s trying to be fake mad, he just can’t do it.
Belatedly, he wonders if this is what it will be like if you two ever do fight, if he’ll just take one look at you and the anger dissipates from his body. 
He has a feeling that’s probably what will happen.
He can’t seem to say no to you, can’t seem to feel the need to deny you anything.
“Andrei,” you pout. 
His thumb rubs at your bottom lip. “It means ‘diamond,’ malyshka.”
Your mouth drops open in a soft ‘O’ and Andrei feels his skin heat. “Where’d you get that from?”
Andrei shrugs, gathering another spoonful of his ice cream but feeding it to you instead. “It just seemed fitting, I guess.”
After taking a moment to swallow the chocolate off his spoon, you raise a curious brow at him from your barstool. He waits for you to say something else, but you don’t, instead digging back into your tub, and the two of you continue to finish your ice cream, exchanging dollops of whipped cream and caramel sauce.
A thought pops into his head to prop you up on the kitchen island and put the whipped cream and caramel to good use, but he restrains himself.
He feels it then, the normal electric tension between the both of you feels…different now. It feels both like something more, and then it also feels like…like there’s a newly growing space between you. It’s small still, but not small enough for him to ignore. 
Andrei thinks it has something to do with your time at home over the holidays, but he’s a little too afraid to ask. He can’t seem to get more than a few sentences out of you about your personal life, or the part of your life involving your family, and he doesn’t want to disturb the peace you’ve both managed to settle into now that you’re back together.
Belatedly, after you’ve both showered the day away and he takes you against the tiled wall of his shower, pressing ‘almaznyy’ to your skin between heated kisses and strokes, he lays in bed, with your naked body wrapped up in his arms, and he hopes whatever he’s feeling is just his imagination.
~
February 
With the All Star Game going on in Denver the weekend of Valentine’s Day, Andrei suggests taking you away for the bye week in the schedule. He doesn’t use Eden’s services to book a single thing, paying for the trip himself.
He flies you both out to Malibu for the week, booking a beach house on AirBnB with a view of the Pacific coast. You spend the first day settling in, buying a little bit of groceries to make some meals at your AirBnB instead of eating out all the time. Andrei would gladly drop whatever amount of cash it took to feed you at any restaurant of your choosing without complaint, but he also enjoys cooking together with you, so he realistically doesn’t mind either way.
The second day you spent going around Malibu playing tourists, and on the third day, which is Valentine’s Day, Andrei surprises you by taking you on a date to LACMA.
You’re wearing this pretty white dress, your hair falling around you softly, and all he can seem to do is watch you when you stop to look at each and every piece that interests you. 
There’s something about the way you seem to immerse yourself in the art, how you manage to focus on the things he can’t see, like it’s a secret between you and the piece in front of you, and Andrei’s content not knowing. He’s happier to just be in your orbit, to observe you and enjoy the way you turn back to him with a happy smile, reaching for his hand and towing him toward the next piece you want to look at or into the next exhibit hall. 
You’re currently looking at a Grecian style bust, the sunlight creeping in through the vast windows behind it, casting a heavenly glow on you and illuminating your silhouette under your white dress.
He can see it then - you’re not wearing a bra, and the lace of your underwear calls to him like a beacon. 
He doesn’t think he’ll ever stop craving you in every way imaginable.
As you back away a little from the statue, Andrei approaches you from behind, and your body presses against his. He smiles as he wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” You ask, looking at the bust. 
“Extremely,” he murmurs, eyes on you.
You turn in his arms then, chuckling softly when you notice where his eyes are, and you rise up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his lips. “You’re not even looking at the art, Andrei.”
“I am,” he insists, and when you go to back away, Andrei’s arms wrap around you and keep you close. A small gasp escapes as he pulls you against him, and then backs the two of you against the wall in a tucked away corridor, hidden from the main exhibit. “The art is all I’m looking at, almaznyy.” 
He reaches beneath your dress, finding where the fabric rests at the juncture of your thighs, pulling it to the side and running his finger through your wet folds. You gasp again when he brings his finger up to your clit, circling it a little, before his finger’s dipping back down and sinking into you to the knuckle. 
He moves his finger in and out slowly, watching the way your face shifts into that blissful expression he’s come to adore so much, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist, guiding you to follow his hand, to take what you need. “It’s okay, you can take it, I want you to.”
“Andrei,” you breathe out, trying to keep your voice down as your hips move in time with his hand, “What about the rest of the museum?”
“Fuck the museum,” He murmurs, lips brushing against your temple as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “You’re the most important work of art in here, almaznyy.”
Now that you know what your pet name means, your eyes twinkle in delight at him, tilting your head to the side to willingly provide him access to your skin, and Andrei doesn’t wait any further, pressing his lips to your neck and gathering the bottom of your dress, pulling it over your ass to rest around your waist. 
“Take me out,” he demands. 
Your eyes widen a little, pupils blown out. “Here?”
“Here.” He confirms with a nod. “Now. Take me out, malyshka. Don’t make me ask you again.”
Fumbling, your hands shake a little as you unbutton his jeans and lower his zipper, and Andrei lifts one of your legs up, tucking his forearm under your hamstring and opening you up to him. 
The second his cock is free from its restraints, he’s thrusting his hips forward, notching at your entrance and using his free hand to cradle your face in his hands. “This is okay, right?”
You nod, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Be quick.” 
He pushes the rest of the way in, burying himself to the hilt and crowding in closer, pressing your body back against the wall. He fucks you in quick, deep, and brutal strokes. It’s the least romantic he’s ever been with you thus far, the most careless, and he’d think to be concerned about it if it weren’t for your fingernails digging into his shoulders from where you’re holding on to him for dear life.
Heavy breathing is all that can be heard between the two of you, and he tracks the way you’re biting down on your lower lip, trying to stifle your moans, and he buries his face in your neck, sucking bruises into your skin and inhaling the sweet smell of your perfume, his thumb rubbing in soothing motions on your cheek.
“Close,” you whisper, digging your nails in, and he tilts his hips in a way that angles your hips up a little more, and then he’s pressing in a little further, and your back arches off the wall. “Yes, please!” You cry into his ear.
Andrei drives into you in a frenzied pace, eyes on your face and watches your eyes glaze over, can hear the stutter in your breath, and he’s moving his hand from your cheek to cover your mouth when you finally squeeze down on him, body seizing against his and his own body locks up, the orgasm nearly buckling his knees, but he keeps steady, doesn’t move a single inch as he fills you up and your body’s shaking comes to a cresting halt. 
He takes a couple of seconds, letting you calm down and catch your breath before he’s carefully pulling out of you and pulling your underwear back in place, pressing kisses to your forehead as he sets you down on both your feet and helps you rearrange your clothes. He tucks himself back into his pants and lets you fuss over making sure he’s put back together as well. 
Once the lust filled haze finally clears from his mind, he leads you out of the hidden corridor and back in view of the floor to ceiling windows, feeling the awe return when the sunlight immediately casts the heavenly glow back on you. 
“Show me more,” he says to you softly, tilting his chin towards the next exhibit hall. 
With a smile, you take his hand, then take him to look at more paintings.
~
Later that night, after you’ve had dinner, dessert, and more dessert in the shower, you lay on his chest and he wraps one arm around you, the other folded behind his head as he stares at the ceiling. 
It occurred to him as the two of you were in the show that it’s already been six months, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this - having you here, sharing his time with you, being intimate with you - and his mind runs rampant.
There’s so many things he knows about you, but still so many he doesn’t. There’s uncharted territory in his map of you, and he wants to amend that.
Immediately.
So he takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and throws caution to the wind.
“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but…” His voice trails off, running his fingertips gently over your naked spine. “How many clients do you have?”
He doesn’t know if it’s the wine from dinner, or the fact that he gave you three orgasms back to back in the shower and completely wore him out, but you actually answer him, and it takes him by surprise. “In the past, when I was working for Eden to get through school, I had a total of five clients the entire time. Two were short term, one for about nine months and the other for a year. The other three I saw on and off again pretty regularly over the four years.”
“Some of them saw you when you were eighteen?” Andrei asks, concern etching his brow and lacing through his voice.
You snort a little, lips brushing against his chest as you speak. “They weren’t…it wasn’t like that. They try to match the ages up correctly, or as correctly as possible. And we can say yes or no if they bring them to us and we don’t feel comfortable.”
“Well that’s a relief,” he mutters.
Your fingers drum on his chest as you continue. “The first client I started with at eighteen had just turned twenty one. He was some trust fund baby, but shy. Needed a date to his ex’s wedding to make her jealous. They’re married now, actually, her marriage to the other dude lasted all of a year. But she had my client in her wedding party, and he needed to play the long game for a little to make it seem like he’d moved on.”
“That was nice of you,” Andrei replies, genuine. “Very kind.”
“It was what he paid me to do,” You say with a shrug, then he can feel you smile. “They asked me to be at their wedding, once they got their shit together. It was kind of nice.”
He nods, then swallows past the lump in his throat. “And the others?”
“I met the guy I was seeing for a year when I was nineteen, a couple of months after I finished the job with my first client. It was a lowkey thing, he just needed a friend really. He was going through a bit of an identity crisis. Once I told him we could just…be friends, and that he didn’t have to pay me anymore, we stayed in touch.”
“Oh,” Andrei says. He’s not jealous. Not suddenly suspicious of this unnamed guy who-
“He’s my brother-in-law now.”
It’s silent for a moment, and then Andrei laughs, jostling you on his chest, and then you both end up laughing, you throw an arm over your eyes as you giggle, and he turns on his side, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you closer. “I’m sorry,” he says between laughs. “I just-”
You nod, nose brushing against his chest as you do. “I know, it’s okay.” 
He scoots down the bed a little so he can nuzzle his face into your neck. “I just want you all to myself,” he murmurs into your skin, punctuating his statement with a soft kiss.
“You have me,” you assure him, combing your fingers through his hair. “I’m right here.”
He nips at your neck. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” you nod. “I meant what I said.”
Your statements hang in the air, and he sighs. “What about the others? The ones you saw off and on?”
“Two of them were twenty three, and the third was twenty five. They were businessmen from London, young tycoons, and they were trying to expand their business to America. They mostly just invited me out to different charity events, galas, functions, you name it. It was convenient that the three of them were best friends, so they often coordinated who's date I was and when and where, and most people who knew them knew that they liked to share. But they didn’t, not with me anyway, in the sexual sense. I just played arm candy and hung out with them until they eventually were able to acquire the merger that they needed.”
Andrei hums. “They still in your life too?”
You nod. “They were, for a bit. They actually gave me the normal job I told you about after I graduated. Once they opened their office in Manhattan, they hired me as an assistant to one of them, and I’d see the other two every now and again, but we didn’t interact much other than the occasional check in. They all sent me a Christmas card, though. It had a check for ten grand in it.”
A surprised noise leaves his throat. “That’s generous.”
You laugh a little. “I’m pretty sure it was a ploy to try to get me to come back and work for them, but I just put it in my savings.” He hums, and then you go quiet, pushing him a little. 
Andrei raises a brow. “What is it?”
“I don’t know if they tell you this, when they send you my blood panel results. But at Eden, it’s a rule that if you sleep with your clients, you have to report it, and then we have to tell our clients so they’re aware.”
He doesn’t know if he likes where this is going, and he ignores the green flame of jealousy sparking in his body so he can say “Okay.”
“I’m not sleeping with anyone else, Andrei.” You tell him. “And I’ve never been with anyone else. You’re the first and only client I’ve ever had sex with, the only one I’ve felt comfortable with, the only one I’ve had a connection with, the only one I’ve felt safe with.”
And that…well that fucking turns him on.
All the way on, like…rock hard again in seconds. 
But even more, it unlocks something within him that has his entire world screeching to a halt.
You might not be all the way in, but he is. Especially now.
He’s in love with you.
He is undoubtedly head over heels in love with you and -
His movements are lightning quick as he tackles you, pulling you on top of him so he can kiss you fucking senseless. 
If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that you knew exactly what you were doing to him by admitting something so…so….so fucking svyashchennyy. 
Sacred.
After a minute, you giggle, and press smaller kisses to his lips, and then his jaw and neck as you climb off of him, resuming your spot beside him. “Alright alright alright, your turn.” You say, drawing circles with your fingertips on his chest. “Tell me something about you.”
He pauses for a second, trying to pull up something, anything, something interesting to tell you, and he starts to worry when too many things pop up at once, but then he zeroes in on the bracelet on your wrist, the one attached to the hand that’s touching him, and he smiles a little. 
Gently, his fingers circle that wrist before capturing your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I guess you could say I have a pretty obvious love language, or two, maybe. Acts of service and gift giving. It’s mainly because I didn’t have…well…anything, growing up, really. It was tough, back home. So the second I signed my first professional contract here in the states, I bought my mom a car. I got her all the gifts I’d always wanted to get her, and I still do it. I guess…I know what it’s like not to have anything, feeling like even the smallest of things isn’t enough to express how I feel, so I try my best to do it all the time. Like with this.”
He runs his finger over the bracelet. The one you haven’t taken off once since he put it on you, the one he feels signifies that you’re his, even if you’re not.
“I felt…appreciative. Before we even met, I was appreciative that you chose to agree to meet with me. I just wanted to get you something that said thank you, that I felt lucky.”
Your brow furrows, and he can see there’s words in your eyes, things you want to say, but instead, you cup his face in your hands, and pull him closer to you, capturing his mouth in a gentle kiss. 
“I’m the lucky one, Andrei.” You whisper between kisses. “Your heart is worth its weight in gold, never let anyone tell you otherwise.”
His heart beats in his chest and he surges forward, rolling you onto your back as your kisses turn slow, sensual, and then he’s settling between your legs and slipping inside of you, making you come on his cock and his mouth over and over again until you’re both absolutely exhausted, and the night turns black outside the windows.
As you finally drift off to sleep in his arms, he belatedly realizes that while he got to talk to you about your past clients, he still didn’t know how many clients you have now, and there’s still a few gaps in his knowledge about you that he feels are more like gaping holes. 
Selfishly, he doesn’t want you to have anyone else, no one other than himself, and he makes a note as he drifts off to sleep to fix it when you both get back to Raleigh.
~
The following week, when Andrei arrives at his office in the morning, he dials the number always listed at the bottom of the emails from Eden, and after speaking to a receptionist, waits a few moments before a woman’s voice comes to the phone.
“Hello, Mr. Svechnikov, this is Ava Price, CEO and founder of Eden. How may I assist you?”
Andrei drums his fingers on his desk. “I’m calling to ask you about my…um, my companion,” he says, trying to sound as professional as possible. 
“Of course sir, is there a problem?” Ava asks, a touch of concern in her voice.
“Not necessarily. I just wanted to inquire about her employment contract with you.”
There’s a pause, and then Ava clears her throat a little. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Svechnikov, has your companion mentioned that there’s something wrong with her employment contract? As you know, all of our companions are employed with us voluntarily, and they may come and go as they please.”
“I know,” he insists, trying not to sound pushy. “I wanted to ask…to ask if you could tell me why she came back? She had mentioned that she left for a little, and then came back because she wanted something else. Is it money? Is she in debt? Is she in trouble?”
Another long pause greets Andrei’s ears, and his nerves start to twist and flutter uncomfortably in his belly. 
“I’m afraid that’s your companion’s business. Listen, Andrei, I’ll be frank with you. Even if I was at liberty to discuss something like that, I don’t know that I would, given that it seems evident to me that your companion clearly has yet to tell you her actual name. That tells me that you may not be as close as you think you are. So I’ll ask this, why exactly are you inquiring about her employment contract?”
Andrei gathers the courage he had the other night, when you were wrapped in his arms and he swore to himself that if he tried hard enough, he could make this real. Could make the two of you real. “If it’s about money,” he begins carefully. “I want to pay for it. Whatever the amount, I’ll pay if it means you release her.”
“You want to buy her out?” Ava asks, incredulous. “That’s not necessary. As I said before, all of our companions work for Eden voluntarily. As generous and heroic as your interests are, there is nothing to ‘release’ your companion from. She is free to leave on her own volition, whenever that may be.”
Andrei blows air out of his nose. “I understand.”
“If I may, Mr. Svechnikov, I’ll do both of us a favor and pretend this conversation never happened, but perhaps it would be best for you to bring up your concerns with your companion directly.”
~
March 
Andrei glances at himself in the full length mirror of his walk in closet, adjusting and readjusting his suit. 
Tonight’s the Cane’s Bash, the organization’s renamed Casino Night, and it also happens to be his birthday. 
You’d arrived in Raleigh this morning after having to return to Manhattan briefly for what you told Andrei was “personal business,” and he tried his best to not make assumptions or draw unnecessary conclusions about what that “personal business” might actually be.
Not that he thinks you’d lie to him, but there’s still gaps, things he doesn’t know, and after his phone call with Ava, he seems to be dwelling on that more and more lately.
You’re in his bathroom getting ready, and he can hear you humming along to the music playing from your phone on a low volume. If he leans back a little, he can see you in the mirror, finishing up with curling your hair and dressed in a baby pink silk robe, the black dress you’re wearing tonight hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
“Almost ready, almaznyy?” He calls out, stepping out of the closet and into his bedroom. He heads toward the nightstand on his side of the bed, grabbing for his watch.
“Yes malysh,” you call out, the music in the bathroom cutting out. “I just have to slip on my dress.”
“Your heels are by the front door,” he reminds you, fastening his Rolex onto his wrist.
“Yes dear,” you call back, voice teasing.
He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.
Gaps and his phone call with Ava aside, he feels happy that things still feel completely natural with you, and it’s so easy for him to slip into this domestic role. There’s a part of his brain that wants to pretend this is just a regular old date night for the two of you, and he’s getting ready to take you to dinner just because.
If he allows himself to get lost in his imagination, he can picture that this is something he’d prefer to do weekly with you - taking you on a date just because, coming home and telling you to get ready, surprising you with dinner and a movie or taking you somewhere fancy. He’d be proud to show you off, proud to take you around with a rock on your finger that screams “she’s mine.”
But he can do this for now…right?
When you finally step out of the bathroom in your black dress, your hair curled and smile wide, almost as if you’re asking him “What do you think?” his entire world narrows down to just you.
And now…now he feels like he has to tell you. 
He wants to own up to his call with Ava, and wants to confess to you that he wants this to be more than what it is. 
“You look beautiful,” he says, holding his hand out to you.
You go to him easily, allowing yourself to be swept up into his arms and accepting the kiss he presses to your hair. 
“Okay, let me just get my bag and we can go,” you start, going to pull away, but Andrei pulls you closer instead, bending his head for a kiss, which you grant him easily.
He puts his all into it, holding you tightly against him, kissing you like this might just be the last time, just in case you don’t like what he has to say, in case you get angry with him for going behind your back to talk to Ava.
When he pulls away, he swallows. “Almaznyy, I-”
“Andrei,” you cut him off suddenly, taking a step back and out of his immediate space. “There’s something I have to tell you and it’s kind of important.”
Andrei tilts his head, a little surprised. “What is it?”
“I went back to Manhattan to try to find you the perfect birthday gift,” you confess, eyes on your feet as you speak slowly, almost like you’re trying to make sure you’re choosing the right words to explain yourself. “But in the end, nothing I looked at or found made sense or seemed like the right thing to give you. So in the end, I thought of something, and it’s not much at all, and probably a really lame gift. I mean, I hope it’s something you want? Or like. But I didn’t know if you…well, here.” You turn, going into the nightstand on your side of the bed and pulling out a wrapped, rectangular box with a little bow on it, then turn back and extend it to him.
Andrei smiles, accepting the gift and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He undoes the wrapping carefully, taking the lid off of the box and removing the tissue paper to reveal a carefully bound book. 
He opens it with gentle fingers, and when he sees the first page, his breath is almost stolen from him.
It’s a drawing. 
Your drawing.
Of him.
He recognizes the setting almost immediately. It’s of him, sitting on that bench in front of The Met, the coffee cups in his hands as he waits for you. He’s looking off to the side, searching, and Andrei can feel his mouth drop open.
“But…how…” His voice trails off in disbelief, looking up at you.
You’re blushing, a shy expression on your face. “I was watching you,” you admit. “I was sitting down a little bit away from the museum, waiting to see you, and then I saw you sit down, and I just…I sketched you, really quickly. It’s not the best, but I just thought…”
You take a deep breath, glancing down at your bare feet. “I thought that I missed you, and maybe if I drew you, then I wouldn’t miss you as much after you left.”
“You have dozens of pictures of us, almaznyy.” He points out kindly. 
“It’s not the same,” you start to say, but then Andrei flips to the next page, and your words die on your lips as Andrei takes in the second sketch of him.
This one is of him in a suit, sitting with his knees on his elbows and a serious look on his face, hands clasped under his chin. He recognizes it immediately, and laughs a little. “Is this from the game? At the Garden?”
You nod. “You came up on the jumbotron a couple of times during the third period, when the score was still close. So I sketched you then too.” 
Andrei can’t speak, can barely breathe at what he’s looking at.
He’d wondered about the sketches in your journal. Had thought about what you’d drawn over a dozen times, had thought about all the possibilities of what you’d sketched when you sat in the corner of his office and in your spare time. 
Never in his wildest dreams did he think you were drawing him.
As he flips through the rest of the book, there are at least a dozen more on the small A5 paper, of him bent over his laptop at his home office desk, on the phone and writing something down, on the phone and facing the window in his office, looking outside.
There are others too, intimate ones he didn’t think you were around for. Of him standing at the counter, sweatpants hung low on his hips, torso naked, his reading glasses on as he brewed a fresh pot of coffee for you after a particularly long night of fucking. 
He remembers it well - being surprised that he’d woken up before you did, surprised that he didn’t have to embark on his usual scavenger hunt to find you each morning, even though it’s one of his favorite unofficial games with you. 
There’s another of him sleeping on his back, one arm bent behind his head, the other cast out and left open atop your pillow on your side of the bed. The sheets are gathered low across his hips, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen himself look so at peace.
“These are beautiful, almaznyy,” he murmurs quietly, and he thumbs over to the next drawing of him, one where he’s in the closet getting dressed, his back facing you, your view probably from your side of the bed.
It’s then that his eyes catch on something in the bottom right corner, and he brushes his finger over it.
It’s a signature.
Yours.
When he sees it, he flips back through toward the beginning, putting a pause on looking through the rest of the sketches for now, and finds the signature in the same spot on nearly every page.
Andrei lifts his head and finds you staring at your feet, a worried look on your face.
“Almaznyy?” He calls. “What’s…what’s on the bottom of the pages?”
Your mouth opens, then closes again, and you take a deep breath, eyes still on the ground for a second longer before you’re looking up at him with an expression that reads determination, hope, and just a little bit of fear.
Then you say a name. 
And nothing else.
But then it clicks.
It’s your name.
You just told him your name.
And before he can even fully process it, he’s repeating it, the letters and syllables sounding and feeling perfect on his lips. He says it to himself a couple of times, then whispers it into the air between you, and when you hear it, you smile a little.
Fuck the gaps.
Fuck Ava.
Fuck all the nonsensical shit that isn’t just him and you, and this, and ‘us.’
The next thing he knows, he’s carefully setting the journal to the side, shooting up from his sitting position and surging forward, pressing you against the door and seizing your lips in a blistering kiss that steals the breath from his lungs. 
It’s the best birthday present he thinks he’s ever received, and temporarily, he manages to forget about Ava, forget about the gaps, and just focus on you. 
~
He introduces you to nearly everyone, using every opportunity he has to say your name out loud now that he’s earned the privilege of knowing it. 
Now that he knows a little about your background, it explains how comfortable you are in environments like this, how you manage to be friendly to all of these people around you and make them like you when they only just met you. 
It fills him with pride in a selfish way, and he can feel himself walking a little taller, can feel his ego inflating every time someone mentions to him how wonderful you are and how lucky he is.
I know, he wants to say. She’s a diamond isn’t she?
When you make your way back to him after someone’s wife pulled you aside for a brief chat, he wastes no time in draping his arm around your waist and all but hauling you to his side, pressing a kiss to your temple, murmuring your name against your skin. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, you look handsome tonight.” You return, resting your hand atop the possessive grip he has on your waist.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see another couple approaching, and gets ready to put on his best Assistant General Manager face, when he hears you squeal, and then someone else squeals, and you’re out of his arms and a couple of steps away from him in a second.
He turns his head to where you’re hugging a young woman with long black hair, and she’s squeezing you back particularly hard as the two of you speak to one another in a stream of rushed but happy noises he can only assume are words.
Eli’s standing not far off to the side of the brunette, watching her and you with a curious brow, and all at once, Andrei’s stomach bottoms out.
The brunette…she couldn’t be from Eden…could she?
When the two of you part, your hands on one another arms and keeping you slightly embraced, there’s a bright smile on the other woman’s face as she listens to something you say, her eyes casting over to Andrei for a brief moment. The next thing he knows, you’re excitedly leading her over to him, and Eli follows behind, the curious look still on his face.
“Malysh,” you say, smiling brightly at him. “This is Charlotte, one of my oldest friends. Lottie, this is Andrei, my boyfriend.”
Charlotte.
He remembers.
The one who introduced you to Eden. 
Great. So she’s definitely Eli’s date.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he says. He sticks out his hand with a smile, shaking Charlotte’s hand politely before taking a step towards you, allowing you to rest against him. 
Eli approaches from Charlotte’s other side and wraps a hand around her waist, leaning into her side. “Small world,” he says, glancing quickly at Andrei. It makes his back teeth clench.
Charlotte introduces you to Eli, who shakes your hand, and from a few feet away, Andrei can clock Olly and Mason watching the four of you with interest, abandoning the blackjack table they’d been hovering over and beginning to wander toward you. 
He goes to pull you back to him, to pull you away and bring you anywhere else, but then Olly and Mason approach, and they’re asking Charlotte about you, and then you get pulled into a conversation.
It’s fine, realistically, he knows that. And he’s content to just sit back and watch you, drinking from the beer he’s been nursing for the last half an hour.
He’s so tuned in to you that he doesn’t notice Olly approaching him from the side until he’s resting a hand on his shoulder, and Andrei turns, brows furrowing. Olly gestures with his head toward the doors leading to the hallway, and he nods, following Olly out and down the hall to a quieter, more secluded spot.
“Something on your mind, Huntington?” Andrei asks, leaning against the wall and folding his arms.
Olly frowns slightly, stepping forward and speaking lowly. “I know.”
Andrei can feel his heart thump uncomfortably hard in his chest. “Know what?”
“I know about your girlfriend,” Olly says, gesturing his head back toward the way they came. “I know she’s from Eden.”
Silence engulfs the hallway, and any explanation Andrei may have had completely vanishes.
Olly’s the one who breaks it, resting a hand on Andrei’s shoulder. “I promise I won’t tell a soul. Neither will Mason or Eli, we all swore.”
“They know?” Andrei chokes out.
“They guessed when Charlotte spotted your girl from across the room. I was the only one who knew. You used my name as a reference on the site. They sent me a voucher for a thousand dollars for it.”
Andrei feels like he could punch himself in the face.
He completely forgot he’d even done that in the first place. So much had happened in the last six months, he’d almost managed to forget what brought you to him.
“I swear I won’t tell, Drei.” Olly repeats, squeezing his shoulder. “I won’t and they won’t. Your secret is safe with us.” 
“Thank you,” is all Andrei can say. He’s still in shock, he thinks, still caught up in why he’s suddenly so bothered by all of this, and then it hits him.
His conversation with Ava. 
He’d been so caught up in his present from you that he’d forgotten to tell you about his phone call with Ava.
And how he’d planned to ask you to leave Eden and be with him. Actually be with him.
Olly nods before leaving Andrei alone in the hall, and he takes a few minutes to try to collect himself. 
This is neither the time nor the place, but he makes a promise to himself to bring it up with you once the two of you get home tonight. 
After a few minutes, he makes his way back out to the Bash, and spots you almost immediately with Charlotte and two other men who aren’t anyone on the team or from the organization, and certainly not anyone he recognizes. You’re tucked away from a majority of the party for the most part, and there’s no one around, but Andrei doesn’t like what he’s seeing at all.
You’re arguing with one of the men, the other trying to remain between you both to stop your heated verbal disagreement, and Charlotte is trying to pull you away.
There’s a fierce look on your face, a hard set to your jaw that Andrei’s never seen before, and you’re spewing a slew of what Andrei hopes are venomous words at whoever decided tonight was the night to piss you off.
As he approaches, he remains slightly out of sight of the four of you, and when your heated conversation makes its way to his ears, his stomach begins to twist again, and he isn’t sure if he can handle it this time.
“Admit it! This is about your inheritance!” The man you’re arguing with spits.
“This is not about my inheritance. As far as I’m concerned, the terms are bullshit and I don’t want it.”
“Then why are you here? With Andrei Svechnikov of all people?!” The man demands, and your face hardens. 
“He’s my boyfriend, and you don’t get to say his name if you’re going to be a fucking asshole.” 
“Maybe you two could stop this and have this conversation at a more apt time?” The other man asks, and Charlotte nods.
“I agree,” she says, then turns to you, saying your name softly. “Let’s go find Andrei.”
“What are you even doing here?” You demand, ignoring both Charlotte and her ally in trying to calm you down.
The man’s face hardens. “I’m here because Sam’s company is a sponsor for the Hurricanes. The company got invitations to the Bash, and they sent Sam as a representative.”
You scoff. “You expect me to believe that a national company sent a representative from their Manhattan office as opposed to an office based here in Raleigh? Or closer?”
The man, Sam, steps closer to you then. “The Manhattan office is the closest. It’s not that big of a deal, I swear.”
“Well then I suggest you support your husband and his company, and leave Andrei alone.” You spit, turning to follow Charlotte back to the Bash, until the other man speaks again.
“I would, except I’d hate to miss out on the opportunity to tell Andrie that my sister’s a gold-digging whore.”
The silence that follows his statement is heavy, charged, and dangling on the precipice of an all out brawl. 
Fitting, that if there was a fight, they’re in PNC Arena, so it isn’t like there isn’t blood on these floors already.
Andrei’s included.
But then the words settle into Andrei’s veins and twist their way around his heart like barbed wire, squeezing painfully. 
Sister.
Gold-digging whore.
This man you’ve been arguing with is your brother. And if Sam is his husband, then that means…
Sam’s also your former client. The one you helped through his identity crisis. 
And of course if he married your brother, then your brother has to know you’re working for Eden, which explains his hostility.
Your brother thinks that you’re here as an employee, that his little sister is toting around here as a prostitute.
Which…as much as Andrei doesn’t want to admit it, is pretty much what is happening. 
And moreover, your brother thinks you being here and working for Eden is…some ploy at an inheritance?
He’s so lost it’s ridiculous.
Andrei doesn’t understand, but he also doesn’t want to hear anything else, especially if your brother intends on hurting you like this.
Before he can convince his brain to make his feet move, you’re whipping around so fast and lunging at your brother.
Andrei’s feet kick in then, but thankfully Charlotte catches you around your waist, pulling you back as Sam gets between you and your brother.
“Joshua,” Sam hisses.
Ah. Joshua.
So now Andrei’s potential brother-in-law had a name.
Potential being the key word, because if he continued to speak to you like that, or god forbid, made you cry, Andrei would punch his lights out here and now and Joshua would not be invited to the wedding.
Andrei finally makes it to your group, grabbing you from Charlotte and parking you directly behind him.
“I think you need to walk away,” Andrei says to Joshua. His voice is deadly calm, and he’s sure his face looks pretty similar. He’s had a long career to fine tune it, and it’s worked for him pretty well a time or two. He towers over your brother by about six inches, so it would be a fair fight, if your brother did know how to fight, but Andrei really doesn’t want to fuck up his potential brother-in-law the first time they meet.
“She’s got you fooled.” Your brother spits, fighting against his husband’s hold. “Whatever spell she’s got you under? Break it yourself. She’s not worth it.”
“Wrong.” Andrei says, stepping forward, looking Joshua dead in his eyes. “She’s worth everything.”
“Even if it means she uses you for an inheritance she can’t have unless she lures some poor sucker into her trap?” Joshua spits.
Andrei’s blood boils, and his hands curl into his fists at his sides. 
Maybe you’d forgive him for one punch. Just the one. Right?
Sam shoves at him, pointing in the opposite direction and saying “Joshua. Walk.” 
“You’re such a little bitch.” Charlotte says from where she’s comforting you from behind Andrei.
“Listen to your husband and walk away.” Andrei says. It’s his last warning, but Joshua doesn’t need to know that.
“Or what?” Joshua challenges, shoving against Sam’s hands from where they’re pushing at his chest.
“Or we’ll make you.”
The five of you turn your heads to see Olly, Mason, and Eli standing off to the side, and Andrei recognizes the look on their faces all too well. He’s seen it enough when he played with Olly and Mason, and seen it on all three of them nearly a dozen times so far this season.
They’re ready for a line brawl if they’re needed.
Joshua seems to do the wise thing for once and weigh his odds, which don’t bode well for him anymore. Finally, he decides to listen to his husband, and Sam ushers him away quickly, but not before sending a very sorry look to you, Charlotte, and to Andrei.
Andrei turns to you, finding you locked in Charlotte’s embrace and vibrating with anger. Olly, Mason, and Eli get closer, Eli resting a comforting hand on Charlotte’s shoulder and Mason and Olly coming to Andrei’s side.
“You guys okay?” Mason asks, casting worried looks between Andrei and you.
Andrei nods, patting Mason and Olly on the back. “Yeah, thanks.” 
“Need us to kick that guy out?” Eli asks, gesturing towards where Sam and Joshua disappeared. 
“Almaznyy?” Andrei asks, and you cast a glance at him, the expression on your face nearly breaking his heart. “Do you want them to leave?”
You let out a heavy sigh, but shake your head. “Leave them. He’ll keep his distance now.”
“He’d better.” Olly scoffs. “Don’t worry, if he tries anything else, we’ll be there.”
“Thank you,” you murmur. 
After a couple of minutes of reassurance, Andrei sends the four of them away, then finally turns to you, a frown on his face.
He’s quiet for a second, trying to figure out where to start, and he doesn’t plan on it being “What was he talking about?”
Your eyes flick up to Andrei and your nostrils flare. “He just likes instigating, that’s all.”
“I can see that,” he agrees. “But what did he mean? About an inheritance?”
The gears in his head start to turn, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it…it makes a little bit of sense.
It explains why you’ve never divulged as to what you would get out of you being with him. It wasn’t like you were always with Eden, and this was a normal gig for you - you’d made that clear on the first night. Yes, your heart was pure and you genuinely seemed to want to help him, to enjoy being with him, but…
But if it had all been for show…
You didn’t want his money, you said that much too. It would make sense if you didn’t want it because you were bound to have your own.
But none of that could be true…could it?
“There is no inheritance.” You tell Andrei, unwavering. “None that I stand to gain.”
He’s quiet for another moment, brain running a mile a minute.
Between his phone call with Ava, who refused to divulge anything, and then his conversation with Olly, and now your brother showing up, he’s not exactly had the best few weeks.
But this…this isn’t making anything better.
His silence stretches for too long, he realizes belatedly, because when he doesn’t say anything, you take a small step back from him, and he feels it. Feels it like the first crack in the pavement.
“You don’t believe me,” you say with realization, voice hushed and a little pained.
Andrei feels his gut twist uncomfortably. “I want to,” he says softly, “but you’ve never told me what was in this for you.”
“I did,” you insist. “I’ve said it. You just haven’t listened.”
Your words ring in his ears, but he doesn’t understand. He works to find something, anything to say to you, to try to…patch up whatever is happening, but nothing comes out. And with more of his silence, he can see you start to shut down in front of his eyes, putting up walls that have never been there in the entirety of your relationship. 
“Let’s…let’s just go back to the event.” He offers, “Get some drinks, get some food in you, okay? I think I’m just in shock, that's all.” 
You don’t believe him, and he can tell by the way you walk ahead of him, not waiting for him to follow.
You’ve never done that before.
Andrei follows after you, joining you from where you’ve found Charlotte and Eli again, Olly and Mason hanging around. When he gets closer, Olly rests a comforting hand on his back, and Andrei welcomes it, uses it like an emotional crutch and tries to put his best Assistant General Manager face on.
He wraps an arm around your waist that you don’t lean into like usual, and instead of the bright and bubbly person you’d been at the beginning of the night, now you’re just the right amount of nice and kind to the people who come up to you.
The little group of four hovers around the two of you protectively, and Andrei sees Sam making it a point to keep a wide berth between Andrei and Joshua. 
You don’t make any conversation with Andrei, answering his questions only with a shake of your head for ‘no,’ or a small nod for ‘yes,’ and the longer it goes on, the more Andrei can’t take it.
Even from the beginning, he’d never experienced such distance between the two of you, and now, the very same night you gave him your name and he was prepared to lay his heart on the line, he’s starting to lose his grip on the best possible thing that’s ever happened to him.
He needs to get you home, and now.
Just when Andrei’s getting ready to excuse the two of you from the current group you’re speaking to, Skyler approaches, along with a couple of Andrei’s former teammates you met earlier in the night. 
Sebastian, Marty, Martinook, and Jarvy seem a little liquored up and happy, and Sebastian pats Andrei on the back as the others hover around Charlotte and her three shadows.
They start talking about the current season, and then it eases into a conversation about the “glory days,” and that is definitely Andrei’s que to get you the fuck home.
He is not listening to this conversation.
But then, because the universe hates him, and he always seems to move too slow, he gets dragged into it.
“Right, Svechy?” Marty asks, and whatever was said, Martinook seems to agree with it.
“Of course he could!” Jarvy says. “Are you kidding? He could lace up and play tomorrow.”
Andrei winces internally. 
Der'mo. Shit. This cannot be happening.
“Nah, he’s better using that brain for the front office, right Andrei?” Sebastian asks, ruffling Andrei’s hair.
Andrei scoffs, annoyed, and he can see you staring at him from beside him.
Dvoynoy trakh. Double fuck. 
“What do you mean?” Charlotte asks, seemingly on your behalf, her eyebrows furrowed as she glances around.
Eli must be able to sense the rising discomfort, because he wraps an arm around Charlotte’s waist to lead her away, and Mason and Olly look ready to jump in again.
“I have post-concussion syndrome. That's why I had to retire early.” He blurts out, figuring it’s better that it comes from him than from the others.
They don’t know what they’re doing, not really, and they’re not trying to be cruel.
“Oh,” Charlotte says. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Andrei says, and he can feel you. He can feel your eyes staring into the side of his head and can feel you beginning to inch away from him.
“He found out after we won the cup last year,” Skyler adds. “He had to make the decision in the off season when he should’ve been celebrating. But we made sure we celebrated a little bit, didn’t we?”
Andrei smiles, a weak laugh leaving his chest.
It’s partly mortifying that he’s being singled out like this, albeit unintentionally, and also wholly embarrassing because he doesn’t want you to think less of him, or pity him the way everyone else had for a while.
The conversation goes on about the epic parties that had occurred last summer, and it eventually teeters out, but not quick enough.
However, this time, you’re the one who’s helping to usher him home, to get him out of the venue and say his goodbyes. You don’t say goodbye to Sam or Joshua, but you do say goodbye to Charlotte and Eli, and Olly and Mason as well, thanking them for being helpful earlier.
Once the two of you are in the car and on the way home though, Andrei’s waiting for it, waiting for you to make a comment about the injury, but it never comes.
You turn to him just as he turns the car off in his driveway, reaching across the console and resting your hand atop his on the steering wheel, and he steels himself, not really wanting to get into this conversation right now, and-
“Are you okay, Andrei?”
He blinks, head swiveling toward you. “Me?”
You nod, a pout to your lips as you frown. “Yeah, you. Are you alright? I can’t imagine people talking about you like you’re not there is fun for you.”
“I…” he’s dumbfounded. “I…I guess not, no.”
“I’m sorry they did that to you,” you say, squeezing his hand. 
He blinks again. “You’re not…mad?”
You tilt your head, bewildered. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”
“I didn’t tell you,” he says, fumbling through his words as his hand joined with yours falls to his lap. “About the injury.”
“Andrei,” you say carefully. “I Googled you, remember? I already knew about the injury.”
Akh blya. Oh shit. He’d almost forgotten that too.
“Oh yeah,” he mutters. “You did.”
“C’mon,” you say, gesturing your head toward his house. “Let’s go inside. We have a lot to talk about.” You squeeze his hand before climbing out of the car, and he follows you, leading you into the house before shutting and locking the door behind him.
As you’re taking off your heels, and it settles in his bones that the two of you are finally alone, the heavy weight of the evening feels like too much to bear for a second longer, and the words pour out of him all at once. 
“Olly knows.” Andrei says. “About us. That you’re from Eden.”
You pause, putting your heels on the floor, looking at Andrei with a confused expression. “I mean, I figured as much. I thought Charlotte would have told him.”
“No,” Andrei admits. “He knows because of me.”
“You told him?” You question, slightly surprised. 
“Not exactly.” He says, and takes a breath. “I found out about Eden through him. Well, through Olly, Mason, and Eli. When I signed up, I used Olly’s name as a reference to expedite the registration process. I didn’t know it would notify him that I did.”
You nod, following along, but it’s clear you’re still unsure as to where this is going. “Okay.”
“He’s technically not supposed to know. No one is.”
The silence that ensues drives him crazy, starts an uncomfortable throb under his skull, and you’re just staring at him, shell shocked, and all you can say is “Oh.”
He plows forward, needing this off his chest. “After I made my decision, things just…sucked. It seemed like once I said I was stepping away, everyone else moved forward and I stayed behind. Sure, they gave me the Assistant GM job almost right away, but it didn’t…it didn’t help. I guess I felt lonely, and abandoned. That’s…that’s why I looked into Eden, to stop it all.”
“I…” you begin, and he can see your brain trying to work to understand what’s happening. “I don’t know that I get it, Andrei.”
If everything was coming out, if he was coming clean, he had to do it now.
“My brother brought up how I was by myself, all the time, and then I heard Olly and Mason talking about it with Eli, so I said fuck it and signed up. I just wanted to feel less lonely, less alone. I kept seeing my friends moving forward while I felt stuck, and I didn’t want that anymore.” 
He takes a deep breath. “Everyone around me was getting married, having babies, and I had nothing because I didn’t have time for anything else. My whole life changed in the blink of an eye. I thought I had years left of my career, and then I didn’t, and I had nothing. I wanted someone who could give me something, someone who could fit into my schedule and just…give me anything. It didn’t matter who it was, I just needed someone.”
Your breath is stolen from you in a whoosh, the room going dead silent, and then Andrei realizes his mistake.
It didn’t matter who it was, I just needed someone.
Someone. He said. Someone, meaning anyone.
Not you.
Even after he told you anyone else wouldn’t have been good enough. 
He sees it, the moment his words sink into your skin, and he curses himself. “That’s not - I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No,” you say, quiet as a mouse. “I understand.”
Andrei’s heart sinks. “Almaznyy-” he starts, and then you wince.
You wince. 
Fuck.
He’s about to lose you. He knows, and he can’t seem to derail this train fast enough.
Your name falls from his lips in a plea, and you shake your head, wrapping your arms around your middle protectively. “It’s alright, really. Clearly we both haven’t been honest about our motives. It’s not your fault.” 
“It’s not yours either,” he insists, taking a step toward you, reaching for you.
You take a step back almost immediately, and Andrei freezes in his path, hand falling limply to his sides. “I think,” you start to say, voice shaking. “I think I need to go back to Manhattan, Andrei.”
“Okay,” he acquiesces, hands fisting at his sides. He can’t really leave Raleigh, not right now, but if it means being with you and making sure that this, that the two of you are okay, he’ll do it, he’d do anything for you. “Okay, just let me pack and we-”
“Alone,” you clarify. “I need to go back alone. I think - I think we need some time to just…let things cool down. I think we need some space.”
He swallows the puck sized lump in his throat. “Okay.”
You turn away, heading to the bedroom to pack. He stands there, frozen to his spot with his heart at his feet, tongue twisted.
He doesn’t know what to do. He’s never been good at this part - what to do after fighting with a girl he cares about. He isn’t sure whether he’s supposed to run after you and beg you to stay, or just…stay here and do nothing, even though he wants to do anything but nothing.
In the end, it’s all he can do. Just stand there and wonder how this night started off with such relief - him being ready to tell you he was in love with you, you completely derailing his plan by finally telling him your name - and ended in such a fucking mess.
A car pulls up outside, the headlights bouncing off the walls through the front windows, and then you come out of his room, duffel bag and suitcase in tow. You don’t say anything to him as you approach, just rise up to kiss his cheek, and then you’re out the door, taking his battered soul with you.
~
READER’S INTERLUDE
“Are you sure about this?” Ava asks. “You agreed to the booking for this weekend already. That will be your last one?”
You’re sitting across from her in her office in the Manhattan skyscraper that houses Eden’s offices, and you’ve never felt more sure about something in your life.
You have to do this.
You have to quit Eden.
In your email inbox, you’ve got an email waiting from Felix, Chris, and Morgan, waiting for the greenlight from you so they can rehire you and move you to London to work in their main office.
It’s a stark contrast from where you were six months ago.
When you’d gotten the email from Eden all those months ago that you had a potential assignment, you jumped on it immediately, wanting to get this whole scheme over with.
You’d loved working for Eden back in school, loved the girls you met, loved working for Ava, appreciated the agency and power Eden gifted its employees. 
It wasn’t typical sex work, and that had been made clear to you from the jump. While your clients may need the services Eden provides, it was completely up to Eden and the companions they employed as to whether or not those clients received those services, and even if you did decide to cave, everything could be stopped the second you said you were done.
Joining Eden hadn’t been the plan. When you’d gotten into college, you’d been determined to make your way through the rest of your life on your own and leave your ridiculous family behind.
Your mom being a renowned painter and your brother being a popular sculptor had been the only thing interesting about you nearly your entire life. Your father had been an award winning and incredibly successful photographer and photojournalist before he passed from cancer when you were twelve and your brother was fifteen, and all the love your family seemed to have for one another died with him.
Before the fallout, you’d grown up in an obnoxious, aristocratic, and wealthy world, being fortunate enough to attend the best schools and never felt the need to want for anything. All of the so-called ‘friends’ you’d had growing up never failed to use your family’s wealth against you, claiming you never had any real problems since you had money.
But all the money in the world couldn’t buy you sanity, couldn’t buy you happiness, or peace of mind.
You’d cut yourself away from your family when you got into college. You had to pay your own way through since they made it clear that they didn’t want you going to college in the first place, not understanding the point when you could do what they did - hone your talent in drawing and make a living.
That was exactly why you had to leave. You needed out, needed to do things on your own terms and at your own pace and in your own way. 
The last thing you’d done before going no contact with your mother and brother was attending a charity gala in your father’s memory, where your mother and brother had donated several pieces of theirs to raise money for cancer.
That was where you’d run into Charlotte.
Lottie had been a year older than you and was someone you’d known since high school. She was already going into her sophomore year at the college you were heading to in the fall, and was one of the rare people in your life who was nice to you, never cared about your family or your family’s money, and was the closest thing to a friend you had.
She asked you about how you were doing, about your college plans, and how things were going with your family. You’d poured your heart out to her, and in turn, she gave you a solution.
Eden.
You’d applied through her, and began work after your fall semester midterms concluded, and the rest was history. You’d planned to be in Eden for as long as it took you to graduate, and when you did graduate and ended up working for your last clients, Felix, Chris, and Morgan, that was it.
Until your brother, Joshua, had reached out and told you that he and your mother had conveniently forgotten to mention that your father had left you an inheritance, and that in order to gain access to your inheritance, you needed to meet with your family’s lawyer to review the terms and conditions.
The terms and conditions being a letter that in no uncertain terms said that in order to come into your inheritance, you had to fall in love and be with someone, on the path to marriage.
“We taught you everything but how to love - to give love, to receive love, to be in love - and for that my darling daughter, I am sorry. Should you fall in love with the right man, should you find you want to spend the rest of your lives together, the inheritance will be yours, and I want you to take that money and build a life for yourself and the love of your life. Build a life full of love, the life your mother, brother, and I, failed to give you.”
You scoffed at the note, disbelieving, until your family’s lawyer insisted that the terms were albeit colonial, but legal, and that your father was extremely serious, and well…
The only way you saw any of that being even remotely possible was by going back to Eden, and you originally only did it so you could find someone interesting enough, play the long game to meet the stupid terms of your inheritance, take the money, and never have to speak to your family again. 
Even if it meant using your clients in a way they didn’t realize, a way they couldn’t consent to.
You’d faked being a happy daughter and sister for most of your life - you could surely fake being in love, right?
Wrong.
Because when that potential assignment had come your way, you hadn’t expected Andrei.
His name had rung a bell in your head, so you took to Google to do a little research before making any decisions. You’d found out that he was thirty two, recently retired from the National Hockey League due to a career ending injury that had surfaced during his final - and successful - cup run, and hired as the Assistant General Manager for the same team he’d just left earlier that summer. It was a huge undertaking, and it was clear to you that his life had become incredibly busy within the last several months.
Thanks to Eden, you also had access to his background check, which dug a little deeper into his life and revealed to you a little about his life before his career took off. His upbringing was a stark contrast to your own. He had grown up in poverty with his brother and parents, his parents who sacrificed everything so he and his brother could live their dreams, who helped him move to another country so he could be everything he’d ever wanted.
From that moment, you knew he had a heart of gold. Knew that this man, this kind of man, deserved better, deserved a wife and kids and someone with a better direction of life than your own.
But selfishly, you’d also wanted to be the one to give that to him.
So you’d said yes, took him on as your client, and vowed to keep moving forward.
When you arrived at the Premiere Suite that first night, you’d already known he was handsome, knew the sound of his voice from watching a few of his interviews, had practiced what little Russian you knew at the time just in case he felt more comfortable speaking in his native tongue.
What you didn’t know was how disarming he could be from that very first second. How with just one look in your direction, you suddenly felt catapulted into his orbit and tethered to a man you’d semi-known, but had only just met.
It didn’t help that you were the type of person to believe in signs, either.
From the fact that the second you’d looked him up you felt willing to be his companion, to the nerves that had blossomed in your stomach on the elevator ride up, to the way he’d attached you to him with one look, the electricity you felt between you as you passed him and wandered into the suite, and then, to the photograph on the wall.
The one he’d caught you staring at.
The one your late father had taken, that was now hanging up in the Premiere Suite of The Mark Hotel.
It was one of his favorites - a photograph he’d taken of a patch of flowers in bloom in Central Park, a shadow of two people who had just gotten married sharing their first kiss as husband and wife casted onto the grass beside the flower patch. 
When you wandered into the living room, it was the first thing that had caught your eye, and you could almost hear your father quoting a line from his favorite poem to you. “Until at last, they enter the same door, and suddenly, they meet.”
Fate.
The word had echoed in your head until Andrei pulled your attention away from the photograph, and then the word sealed itself into a protected cage in your heart.
It couldn’t be possible, could it?
You weren’t sure, especially because the second you started to get to know him, you absolutely knew you would never, under any circumstances, tell him why you were working for Eden, and you would absolutely never, under any circumstances, use him to gain access to your inheritance. 
He didn’t deserve it, and you didn’t have the heart to drag him into your mess.
He was so charming and sincere, thoughtful and kind, respectful and generous, and surprised you completely with the roses and the bracelet. When he had asked you what was in this for you, telling him you needed something more was half the truth, and though it felt wrong to give him anything but the whole truth, what choice did you have?
To tell him you’d been in it for money, albeit not his, but then decided not to be in it for money because he what…charmed you immediately?
Yeah, like that was believable.
It wasn’t his fault. He’d given you several opportunities to tell him about it, but you turned them all down because you felt that deciding against going for your inheritance and just choosing to be with him anyway would be enough. 
You knew it wouldn’t be, so you kept your mouth shut.
Regardless of whether or not Andrei seemed like the type of person who wouldn’t mind your motives, you knew it was a secret you weren’t going to share, because it would never apply to him.
And it was still one you couldn’t share. Especially not now, not now that you actually had feelings for him.
“You can tell me you know,” Andrei had told you the night you first slept together. “You can tell me anything.”
You smiled, nodded and said “I know,” but beneath the surface, you knew you couldn’t.
There’s a part of you, a part that’s still healing, that hears that, hears it when people say “you can tell me anything” and know that they believe themselves to be telling you the truth.
But deep down, you know that telling them is only half the battle. Because once you do tell them, once the truth is out there, it doesn’t prevent them from lashing out or prevent you from facing the brunt of their emotions. It was a vicious cycle.
You could never control how other people felt or reacted, but you could control the thing that could cause those feelings and reactions.
And that ‘thing’ was you.
So when Andrei said “You can tell me anything,” you knew you wouldn’t be saying a word.
Because how could you? You’d gotten to know Andrei. You’d learned more about him than anyone else outside of his family ever did, he’d said as much to you.
And from the very second he opened that door to the Premiere Suite at the Mark Hotel, you’d been interested in him. He gave you roses, gave you the bracelet you never took off, took you on the kind of first dates he deserved to save for someone better, someone who wasn’t you, a twenty three year old escort who had come back to her escorting job with nefarious intentions, and who definitely had a crush on her client.
He let you into his space - brought you to see what he was like at work, invited you to his bed, his house, let you into his mind, into his life, opened himself to you and all at once, and you just knew.
You were falling in love with Andrei Svechnikov, and it was completely selfish. 
You’d given him those drawings, a piece of yourself you’d locked away for so long, wrapping them and gifting them to him like an offering of your heart. Then to seal the deal, you’d given him your name, finally, stupidly thinking that it would maybe drop a hint to him that yeah, you liked him more than he originally assumed, and in turn, he just about broke your heart.
You already said screw it to your inheritance, but you couldn’t allow yourself anything further than…whatever it is you were. He didn’t believe you anyway, when you tried to tell him there wasn’t anything in this for you, no ulterior motives, but what did it matter anymore? How would it ever be worth it to have if you were in love, and had love, but you didn’t have Andrei?
Especially when Andrei never said he wanted love.
He admitted it to you himself - he sought out Eden because he wanted company. He wanted someone to make him feel less lonely, less alone. He had been envious of his friends who moved on with their lives, built themselves a home with a spouse and children and things to look forward to. He wanted someone to warm his bed, to fill in certain gaps in his life, make him feel whole and full on the days he felt particularly empty. 
Someone.
Anyone.
Not you.
And even though you didn’t know the whole of it, on that very first day you had promised you could give him company - whatever it looked like. In the process, you indulged yourself in his presence, soaked up every bit of himself he offered you, tucked those bits away in a delicate box and stored it within the safety of your heart. 
If it hadn’t been for Joshua, your idiot fucking brother, it might have been a better night. 
But he can’t take all the blame.
You haven't been honest. Andrei may have led you on, given you false hope, but maybe it was your fault for believing there had been a chance in the first place. Perhaps, it was what you deserved for lying, for making promises you couldn’t keep, at least, not in the end.
You promised you could give him what he wanted, but that was before you realized that he didn’t want you, not actually you. 
He wanted this, what you could give him, but not you.
And now, you weren’t even sure he’d want this anymore, because this, this was bad.
Here you were. 
In love with your client. 
In love with Andrei. 
And there’s no way he could ever feel the same.
The way he told you no one was supposed to know about the circumstances of your relationship stung. In all the time you’d worked for Eden, you’d never been made to feel ashamed of what you did, but in that moment, even if Andrei didn’t mean it, the tiniest bit of shame sparked into your veins and set everything ablaze.
So now, sitting across from your boss’ desk with a shattered heart, you look at Ava, and finally answer her question. 
“I’m sure.” You say firmly. “After this weekend, I’m done. I quit.”
~
April
A month.
Andrei hasn’t seen or heard from you in a month and his heart breaks a little more with each passing day. 
Charlotte must have heard from you that things had gone south and told Eli, who probably told Mason and Olly what had happened, because they’d been giving him the same pitiful or sympathetic glances all week. 
If any of them sent him another one, he was going to tell their Coach to bench them for the next three games. 
He finally reaches his breaking point when Olly gives him a sympathetic pat on the back as he passes him in the hall at their practice facility, and Andrei knows he can’t take another day of it.
The second he gets home, he sends an email to those who need to know that he’ll be taking the upcoming weekend off of work for a family emergency, and logs into Eden, booking the Premiere Suite at the Mark Hotel. 
It’s a shot in the dark, but that’s all he’s got.
He texts you immediately after booking the suite, his hands shaking the whole time.
Andrei: I know we agreed to give each other some space, but I just want to talk about what happened. It would mean a lot if you would be there this weekend
He doesn’t get a response from you at all, and heads to Manhattan with a growing pit in his stomach. 
It isn’t until he’s waiting in the hotel room for an hour that he starts to worry that you won’t show, but then there’s a knock on the door, and he’s rushing for it, throwing it open and breathing a sigh of relief when he sees it’s you.
Memories hit him like a freight train. 
He didn’t think that when he first opened the door to find you standing there that he’d feel so much joy. 
Now, anxiety seeps into his veins, and he swallows past a lump in his throat.
“Hi,” he murmurs.
“Hi,” you mutter back, and Andrei steps aside to invite you in. He takes notice as you take off your shoes by the door and then pass him that you’re empty handed, and hopes your bags are with the front desk like normal. His eyes scan over your body, cataloging. You’re wearing black jeans and a thin white sweater, and your bracelet is still on your wrist, so he takes it as a good sign.
Before you make it to the couch, you turn around, retrieving a folded piece of paper from your back pocket and handing it to Andrei. 
He raises a brow, hesitant as he takes it. “What is this, almaznyy?”
“Read it,” you instruct, voice quiet, and Andrei frowns, but does as you ask.
When he opens it up, the first line that he sees is “Last Will and Testament,” and his eyes fly to your face. He’s sure the confusion is written all over his face, but you gesture back toward the page, and he frowns, continuing to read.
He doesn’t exactly understand all of the legal terms, but he gets the gist. He gets to the portion of the page that’s handwritten, and his heart beats harder in his chest.
“We taught you everything but how to love - to give love, to receive love, to be in love - and for that my darling daughter, I am sorry. Should you fall in love with the right man, should you find you want to spend the rest of your lives together, the inheritance will be yours, and I want you to take that money and build a life for yourself and the love of your life. Build a life full of love, the life your mother, brother, and I, failed to give you.”
Andrei looks up at you and where you’ve settled on the couch, elbows on your knees and your head resting in your hand as you stare back at him. He’s completely bewildered, and the only thing he can think to ask you is “Is this even legal?”
“Unfortunately.” You say, tone void of any emotion.
He hates it. 
You breathe through your nose, still looking uneasy. “I…the reason I didn’t say anything to you about it is because I didn’t want you to look at me differently. Because of my parents and their work as artists, my brother and I grew up in a fairly wealthy household. It was the complete opposite of what you had, Andrei, and I didn't want that to change your perception of me. I didn't want you to think that I'd always been this spoiled brat, because that was never the case. I can't deny the opportunities and privileges that were given to me, but the person I am now, the person that you met and got to know? That's who I've always been.”
Taking a deep breath, you plow forward. “When my dad passed away, he left me that inheritance. He left it, and I thought it would help me be rid of my brother and my mother once and for all.”
“And you…” he recalls how fierce you’d been against your brother, and it starts to make sense - how upset you got, how crestfallen you were that night when Andrei had questioned you about it. “You don’t want it?”
“I’ve never lied to you Andrei, and I’m not going to start now. I did want it, at one point. But that changed in an instant. I knew I didn’t want it anymore and that I wasn’t going to fight for it when I…” you voice trails off, and your eyes trail to the photograph on the wall, the one you stared at when you first met.
“You what?” He presses.
Your mouth closes, and you shake your head. “I don’t want it. Bottom line. I just…I wanted you to know. I wanted to make that clear. That when I told you there wasn’t anything in this for me, that I meant it.”
“I believe you.” He swears, and it’s true. Over the last month, he’s had plenty of time to think about it, and you’d never given him any indication of deception. He felt upset at being left out of the loop, sure, but he never felt like you played him, never felt like you were leading him on.
If anything, you let him take the lead, let him call the shots, and just follow along. You kept your promise and held up your end of the bargain.
“I don’t think you deceived me,” he continues. “I was upset, and confused, but I don’t think you lied, and I’m not angry with you. I promise.”
After a second, all he gets from you is a nod. He waits for a second, waits for you to say something, maybe say more, but instead, you look at him, and stuff your hands in the back pocket of your jeans.  
“Then why’d you bring me here, Andrei?” You inquire, your body suddenly going tense.
“I wanted to explain,” he says. “What I told you that night, what I said? It wasn’t completely true.” 
You shift your weight, clearly feeling uneasy. “What wasn’t true?” 
He sighs, then gathers a deep breath. “I’d been feeling lonely, yes, and I signed up for Eden because I was looking for company, and I figured it would be a good idea. But, I was also ready to call the whole thing off until I opened the door and saw you. When I saw you for the first time, almaznyy,” he says, swallowing past the lump in his throat, “I knew it was going to work.”
“Knew what was going to work?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper.
It hurts, the way you’re trying to make yourself small around him, and he hates it. “This. Us.”
“Us?” You echo.
“Our…” he searches for the right word for a second. “Our arrangement,” is what he comes up with, but the way your face falls tells him that was definitely not the right word to choose. 
“This was a mistake,” you whisper eventually, so quietly he almost didn’t hear it at first.  
But he does.
The anger stretches across his face, and your mouth drops into a frown. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, and then you’re turning on your heels, every line in your body telling him that you’re about to walk out of his life. 
He calls your name, halting you in your tracks on your way to the door. “I ‘m trying to tell you that I want you, can’t you see that?” He exclaims, running his hand through his hair. He’s so frustrated right now he feels like he could pull his hair right out of his skull.
You shake your head, lip trembling as the tears that have been pooling in your eyes finally fall, and it breaks his heart. “No, no you don’t, Andrei. No one wants me.”
“I do!”
“You don’t!” You cry, voice breaking. “You hired me. You hired me to fill a void, and now you’re confusing it for love, but it’s not love, Andrei. What you’re feeling? You just like the way me giving you what you paid for makes you feel.”
It stings.
Hearing it said that way stings so much in his heart he feels like he might crumble, but he persists. 
“Maybe I do,” Andrei says with a nod. “Maybe you’re right. But you can’t stand there and tell me that you don’t like the way that I make you feel either.”
Your face crumbles. “You know I do, Andrei. But you don’t feel what I feel, not really.”
“What do you feel, almaznyy?” He all but begs, rushing forward and taking your hands in his. 
“I love you, Andrei!” You exclaim, voice cracking. Your breath hiccups, and his heart feels so full in his chest, it’s like he’s drowning in your confession. “I’ve fallen for you. I broke the rules, broke our contract, and I can’t even find it in myself to care because I love you.” 
He murmurs your name, and it sounds so soft, so delicate between his lips that he can see the way it nearly makes you crumble, and Andrei doesn’t hesitate to pull you closer. “I love you too, almaznyy. I swear it, I do. God, I’ve felt it since the moment I opened the door and saw you standing there that first night. You didn’t even say anything! I just looked at you and I knew, I knew there wasn’t ever going to be anyone else for me. Ever.”
There’s a moment in your expression where he sees it, the happiness, the relief, but then it’s just replaced with more sadness, and he can feel his heart beginning to deflate, splintering at the seams. 
“But you can’t prove that, can you?” You say with a shaky breath. 
“It’s real,” he pleads. “It’s real. This? Us? This is all the proof we need, it’s all I have, almaznyy. You’re all I have.”
You shake your head. “You didn’t even know it was going to be me. It could have been anyone.”
“That may be true, but ‘anyone’ isn’t good enough for me, you are.” Andrei insists. “If anyone but you walked through that door, I wouldn’t have gone through with any of it. I wouldn’t have let them in the damn room, let alone give them roses or a bracelet like that. Because they weren’t meant for them, it was meant for you. You and you alone.”
“Andrei,” you murmur, shaking your head again. 
He cups your face in his hands, staring right into your eyes. “Eto sud'ba,” He whispers. It’s fate. “Fate. Destiny. Meant to be, almaznyy. That’s us. I would go to the ends of the earth for you. I practically have!”
Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?” You ask, sniffling.
He groans in frustration at himself, but knows he can’t avoid telling you about this, so he lays it all out on the line. “I called Eden. I talked to Ava Price and I all but begged her to let you out of your contract. I didn’t know the reason you went back at the time, so I offered to buy you out of it. Pay whatever amount it was you were trying to save up for so that you wouldn’t have to see any other clients anymore. So I could try to…court you, I guess. Svidaniye.”
Realization crosses your features. “Date me?”
He knew you were fucking taking lessons, you little sneak. 
“Yes, date you, almaznyy. I just wanted you to myself. I know it’s selfish, and I know it was wrong. It crossed boundaries, invaded your privacy, and I’m sorry. But I just wanted you so bad. I was falling for you, and I was willing to do anything to have you for myself.”
“You…you spoke to Ava?”
“Da, almaznyy.” He nods, “I called her the morning after our night in Malibu, the second I got back to work. She told me I couldn’t do it, that you had to make the choice yourself.”
“You called her to…try to get her to fire me?”
“I did,” he admits. “I did it and I’m sorry.”
“Andrei, I quit Eden.”
He blinks, stunned into silence and so rocked by the revelation that he takes a small step back, his hands dropping to your arms. “You…what?”
“I quit two days ago. I…I quit because I didn’t want Eden to be the only reason that I was still in your life. I quit because I didn’t think it was me that you needed. I thought it was what Eden could provide. I quit because…because I realized that I love you. That I’m in love with you, and I needed to know for myself that you wanted me for me.”
“I do, malyshka, I do.” He swears, taking your hands again and stepping into your space. “I want you so badly, I could go insane with it.”
“It’s just been you, Andrei,” you say, pushing the words out with a breath of relief. “It’s only been you for me, too.”
He yanks you into him, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you like it’s the last time. 
Except he knows it’s not the last time, not now. Not like this. 
His heart is pounding so loudly in his ears that it takes him a second to realize you’re murmuring something, words forming against his lips as he kisses you, and he realizes you’re saying “only you” over and over again, speaking the words against his mouth like you’re praying to the heavens.
“I know malyshka, I know,” he says back, pressing the prayer into your lips. 
But you shake your head, pushing on his shoulders a bit to put some space between the two of you. You look up at him, shaking your head again. “No Andrei, I mean. It’s only ever been you. You’ve been the only client I’ve had since I got back to Eden.”
He blinks, cock pulsing at your admission, heart going into overdrive. “Me?”
You nod, cupping his face with your hands now. “My one. My only. My last. Moy vozlyublennyy.”
His vision blurs as tears begin to gather in his eyes. 
My beloved. You called him my beloved.
He’s gathering you in his arms in a split second, crushing his lips to yours and moaning in relief, practically running his hands all over you, trying to engrave you into his touch, his soul.
Ona moya, he thinks. She’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.
Andrei pulls away, looking into your eyes. He figures he probably looks like a fucking crazy person, gazing at you in both awe and disbelief. “Ty moya,” He proclaims aloud. “Ty moya, moya almaznyy.” 
You’re mine. You’re mine, my diamond.
You smile up at him, tears making your eyes sparkle. “Da, ya tvoy, Andrei, ya vsegda byl tvoim.”
Yes, I am yours, Andrei, I have always been yours.
He growls, bending to nip at your bottom lip. “You have been taking lessons, moy malen'kiy kotenok,” he accuses, my little kitten, then bends and hauls your legs around his waist, promptly turning around and heading straight for the bedroom. 
“Of course I have,” you say, like it’s obvious, and really, it should have been. “I know five languages, Andrei, and it’s part of my job to learn new ones. Russian’s been hard, but it’s been worth it for you.”
He clenches his teeth, trying to restrain himself from hugging you and squeezing you so hard that you’d probably bruise, and he drops you down to the bed. Andrei climbs over you, bending his head, nipping at your neck and going straight for your jeans. 
You help him, tearing off your sweater and your bra as he peels your jeans and socks off of you, and he’s about to go straight for your thong and rip it to shred when - 
That’s when he sees it.
It’s small, hidden behind the waistline of your thong, but the second he pulls the band down to confirm what he’s seeing, it’s staring him in the face.
A diamond. 
It’s no bigger than the size of a quarter, but it’s there. It’s a diamond. You got a tattoo of a diamond.
And suddenly he can’t breathe.
All the air whooshes out of him in a stuttering breath, and his hand hovers over the skin, too shocked to do anything else.
“You can touch it.” He hears you mutter, “It’s healed.” 
“How?” The question comes out in a rasp. “When?”
“I got it before the Canes Bash,” you admit. “I planned on showing it to you that night, but then, well, you remember what happened.”
He swallows, fingers gently brushing over the small tattoo, and his body is suddenly caught between wanting to fuck you so hard you can’t walk, making love to you till you can’t speak, or wanting to cry at how loved he feels, just based on the small pattern of ink alone.
He swears to himself when the morning comes, he’s going to get a matching one. He’d never thought he’d get a tattoo, didn’t bother getting one any of the times he won the Cup, and certainly never thought of getting a matching tattoo, but for you? He’d tattoo your name anywhere you wanted if you asked him to, so what did it matter if a diamond blessed his skin?
Too moved to speak, he bends his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the diamond, and then he’s moving to scoot lower on the bed, until you stop him. 
He glances up at you, curious, and you’re shaking your head. “None of that,” you say, your voice all breathy. “It’s been a month, Andrei. I need you now.”
“Okay,” he says, coming up for one last kiss. He makes it sweet, whispering your name and a string of praises as he quickly takes off his shirt, then tears off his jeans and boxers. He swipes a finger through your fold and finds you soaked already, so he rubs the head of his cock along your pussy until it’s coated in your arousal, and then he’s sinking in, balls deep and crowding in close.
He withdraws his hips a couple of inches and then pushes back in, watching your face.
You’re watching him too, and you reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down, capturing him in a whirlwind of a loving kiss. His eyes flutter shut, eyelashes brushing against your cheek as he tilts his head, slotting his mouth over your so he can slip his tongue inside of your mouth.
You both stay locked like that, making out as Andrei fucks you slow and deep, your legs locked around his waist as you wind your hips to meet each of his thrusts.
“Missed you,” he murmurs against your lips. “Missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” you reply, one of your hands trailing into the hair at the nape of his neck, “never leaving you again.”
“Damn right you’re not,” he says, nipping at your bottom lip. “I’ll tie you to the bed before I ever let you walk out on me again.”
“Delay chto khochesh',” you say. Do whatever you want.
“You’re going to regret saying that to me,” he swears, punctuating his statement with a deep thrust. 
“I won’t,” you swear. “I don’t regret anything about you.”
He can’t have you saying things like that, not when he’s buried inside you and too in love with you for his brain to function properly. He decides all he can do is keep kissing you, keep fucking you, and when your orgasm finally washes over, he follows suit, coming inside of you and whispering “I love you” over and over against your mouth.
“I love you too,” you swear once you’ve both calmed down. “From the very first day.”
“You’re the best decision I ever made, almaznyy.” He says, burying his face in your neck. “I don’t regret a single thing.”
“Neither do I, Andrei. Neither do I.”
~
ONE YEAR LATER
Andrei glances around the living area of the Premiere Suite. 
He didn’t think he’d ever be here again after the last time. Thought when he shut the door behind him, that would be it.
Until tonight.
He’s not as nervous as before, and when he glances around the room, checking that the white roses he bought are in the vase, the champagne is in its ice bucket with two glasses at the ready, he feels comforted by the familiarity.
He doesn’t bother checking his phone, doesn’t bother pacing or fretting. He just waits, scrolling on his phone until there’s three soft knocks on the door.
With a smile, he places his phone on the coffee table and heads toward the door, opening it only for his smile to get wider. 
You’re there in a white mini dress and matching white heels, your silver bracelet on your wrist where it belongs, and you’re wearing matching earrings and jewelry on your hand. 
“Ty Andrei Svechnikov?” You ask, and his heart flutters.
A loud laugh leaves him, but he nods. “Da, ya Andrei.” Yes, I’m Andrei.
“Ideal'nyy!” you say, a bright smile stretching across your face. “Ya tvoy novyy pomoshchnik.”
Perfect! I’m your new assistant.
His brow furrows playfully as he steps aside, letting you into the suite and shutting the door. “I didn’t realize I was getting a new assistant.”
You turn to him, hair flowing around you as you do. “Well, with your recent marriage, it appears your former assistant was no longer suited to help you with your needs.”
“And that’s where you come in, I assume?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
You nod, turning back toward the living room and grabbing the champagne bottle. As you go about opening it and pouring each of you a glass, you say “Exactly. I’ll be taking care of you going forward.”
When you spin around and hand him his glass, you both toast quickly, clinking your glasses together and taking a sip. “I see, and when do you officially start?”
“The second I walked in the door.” You respond, that cheshire smile of yours he loves so much creeping up your face.
“Oh?” He inquires, openly eyeing you up and down. A flash of excitement crosses your face as you watch him set the champagne down on the table, stalking forward playfully.
You take a step back with a hesitant nod, heading toward the bedroom. 
The very place he took you for the first time.
The place he plans to take you for the first time as his wife.
“Idi syuda, zhena,” he orders, crooking his finger to beckon you to him. Come here, wife. 
That cheshire smile is the last thing he sees before you’re whipping around and running toward the bedroom, and Andrei can only smile as he chases after you, his beautiful wife, the glittering of his wedding ring shining in the light of the suite as he goes.
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bleongambetta · 8 months
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Heroic Sacrifice and The Warlord (BL-G Hack)
I saw a post yesterday from @drakeanddice about Blaze of Glory mechanics in tabletop games and was going to just show him what I'm doing for that in (the still obnoxiously named) The BL-G Hack, but then realized it could maybe be a post of my own.
Let's talk mechanics for heroic sacrifice.
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Okay, maybe I lied, we're going to talk briefly about WHY mechanics for heroic sacrifice make sense for a game. This is still going to be mostly me dumping over a box of toys, a quick glance at planned mechanics, but I want to ground it a little bit first.
Why would a player want to have a heroic sacrifice moment?
Thematic Payoff: Fantasy fiction is full of moments of a character (especially one who has broken oaths and bonds) sacrificing themselves for the good of the many. We want to see a someone who we didn't think could live up to being a hero doing it.
Strategic Goal Reaching: Setting up a heroic sacrifice will often allow a momentary contract between the GM and the player; I really want X to happen, so much so that I'm willing to give up my character. In exchange, will you give us the cool thing? Yeah, nice.
Character Shuffling: Players don't always want to stick with one character or may have an RL reason that they need to change. This lets them not just fade away.
Kicking Up Drama: In a lot of games (lookin' at you dnd) combat can be lengthy and cumbersome for players that want dramatic play. This shortcuts combat (usually) in order to hit that drama.
With these goals in mind, an ability that does heroic sacrifice needs to be redemptive (it makes the character feel heroic even if they have not been previously), effective (it succeeds at a task), lethal (it definitely kills them), and big (the moment feels important).
The BL-G Hack's Approach
As discussed elsewhere the BL-G hack is a class based DnD-like that uses PbtA inspired abilities and has a focus on World Map play in a West Marches style.
If that sentence didn't make sense, don't worry, it's a game where you do fantasy stuff.
Characters in the BL-G hack will be able to gain Abilities through leveling up, circumstances, equipment, etc, and some of those will be Heroic Sacrifice moves. One of the classes that gets one of these abilities is The Tactician.
The Tactician is based on using martial prowess and tactical knowledge to improve your party's fighting and provides an inroad to the Map Phase. It's based on the 4th edition Warlord pretty explicitly, though it's exchanged martial healing for troop movement in a way that I think will be fun. Here is the Tactician's Heroic Sacrifice Move.
Sheath the Sword: When all is bleak and you take position at a choke point, you may give up your life to hold the position for as long as your allies need to escape to safety. You have a moment to speak with them, confessing your weaknesses and sharing your love for them. You battle long, until the ground is slick with blood and the bodies have stacked before you, weakening the enemy and ensuring that pursuit is delayed long enough to give your allies a true advantage. The spot you died becomes a Landmark where future heroes can use this ability at will.
Notice how this move is aimed to handle those four pieces:
Redemptive: You confess your weaknesses, a fitting redemption for a class that is about not showing weakness.
Effective: It definitively allows your allies to escape to safety from a bad situation. It specifically weakens and delays the pursuit.
Lethal: There's no roll, you die.
Big: Your sacrifice is so noble and awesome that the Map is permanently changed.
When a player picks this ability, they are letting the GM know that they want to have one of these moments and they are setting themselves up for it. It lets the GM know that they can kick up the danger, somebody has an out and they'll want to use it when the moment is right.
Not all classes will get Heroic Sacrifices (multiclassing is SUPER supported and I don't want the classes to feel same-y), but others will include magically pulling down a building onto yourself to destroy a major villain, healing those around you and creating a healing garden around your grave, and writing your soul into a song that can later be played to strengthen your friends.
Roadmap
Work on The BL-G Hack continues to slowly roll on according to my whims and lunch breaks. The actual PDF of it is probably a little bit off, but I'm hoping to have an accessible, playable version available soon. Being honest, Deadly Kobold Racing is going to come out before this in all likelihood, but BL-G Hack should be close behind.
If you'd like to get it as soon as possible, consider backing my Patreon where I'll be doing an announcement post with a link soon! There'll be an itch page too, but it'll need to be more final before that.
When it does come out, maybe I'll have a Heroic Sacrifice contest and add a Dramatic Location to honor whoever manages to pull one of these off first.
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Thiago makes such a such a good point! I've got two concepts that I think could handle this well to make it a little bit more tempting to take one of these possibly hard-to-pull off abilities.
I might take a look at adding an additional smaller rolling benefit onto these moves. Probably in a way that builds up their reasons for making the move! If I do that, I'll need to make sure that it's not too hugely impactful on it's own; I want it to be a little cherry on top, not a reason on it's own to get the move.
Also, free Abilities are DEFINITELY going to be a thing! My intention is that Abilities are given out like candy, look to Compendium Classes from Dungeon World for some idea of what I'm talking about. You hit a trigger, you get an ability, you have future level up options!
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