#Brady Skjei smut

[comphy-and-cozy]

The After Party

Pairing: Brady Skjei x Reader (f) x Andrei Svechnikov

Summary: When your new fling Andrei invites you to his joint birthday party, you’re surprised to learn that it’s a past flame who shares his birthday. And surely a double birthday calls for a double celebration — even if that means that you are the gift.

Word Count: 6.3K

Author's Note: Happy belated birthday, @smileysvech! Your bday gang bang awaits. 😘 Thanks for letting me take creative filth liberty to write your ultimate fantasy with my two favorite Carolina princes. Also S/O to @ryanpulock for literally remaking two gifs for my graphic and for encouraging the depravity. I’m not sure if anyone’s ever written this on tumblr dot com before so… enjoy!

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Light alcohol use/mention, swearing, one (1) use of Y/N. Threesome (MFM - no MxM), fingering (vaginal + anal - f receiving), oral sex (m + f receiving (vaginal + anal)), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, anal sex (f receiving), double penetration, creampie oh my god this is so depraved. **Please do your research before engaging in any sexual activity but especially anal sex. This is fiction and by no means any indication of how one should prepare. :)

Masterlist

When Andrei Svechnikov slid into your DMs, you were shocked, to say the least. When he showed genuine interest, asking you on a real date instead of the standard late-night meet up, you were even more surprised. 

That was two months ago. Since then, you’ve crossed a myriad of unexpected things off your list with regard to Andrei Svechnikov. You’ve had a sleepover—with just cuddling—and gone out to breakfast, even started a small collection of Carolina Hurricanes t-shirts in your drawer, remnants of late nights and slow mornings with the Russian superstar. You’ve met a small handful of his teammates—always introduced vaguely, with no title to give you any inkling of where you stood relationship-wise, or even how he really feels about you. 

Tonight is your next ‘first’: a Canes party. Andrei’s birthday party, to be specific, meaning your man (date? Boyfriend?)—whatever—is the star of the show.

To say you’re nervous would be an understatement, hence the extra shot before your Uber arrives to take you to Andrei’s. If he notices, he doesn’t seem bothered, greeting you with a smirk and a kiss on the cheek.

“You look hot.”

“Well, I have to look nice for your birthday, don’t I?” you say with a shy smile, still not used to this Adonis of a man complimenting you and checking you out so shamelessly. He responds with a slap to your ass and something murmured about a birthday gift later that earns a dull throb between your legs as you follow him out the door. 

As you’re walking into the party—at the house of one of his teammates, whose name he hadn’t mentioned—Andrei takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers between his large ones. The action causes the butterflies in your chest to flutter excitedly at the outward display of affection.

It doesn’t take long for a drink to find its way into your hand and several introductions to take place. You’re still just Your Name, No Title, though your adrenaline barely lets you dwell on it, focusing instead of learning names and not making a fool of yourself. While you make small talk with Sebbe, the side profile of a handsome brunette catches your eye. He’s laughing, a crinkle around his eye as he smiles, and there’s something about his laugh that feels so familiar…

Andrei approaches as you’re building the courage to ask who the mystery man is. With his arm slipped casually around your waist, the question disappears as quickly as it came. Sebbe teases Andrei, who blushes and nudges him with his leg.

When Sebastian takes his leave, called to the rowdy game of flip cup outside, you’re left alone with Andrei. He gives your hip a reassuring squeeze, almost as if to say, you’re doing great. You barely have time to process. before someone is bounding up to the two of you like a golden retriever—and of course, it’s none other than your brunette mystery man. 

“Svech, the birthday boy!” he greets, clapping his hand against Andrei’s in a greeting. Andrei smiles, then gestures to you, ready to introduce you. Your eyes slide up to his, instantly registering why he’s so familiar—

“Brady?”

You watch as the same realization dawns on his face, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh, shit — hey, Y/N!”

“What are you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same question,” he shoots back, though his eyes flick to Andrei with a hint of realization before his beautiful brown irises are back on yours. 

Andrei pauses, confusion written on his face as he looks between the two of you. He quickly racks his brain, trying to remember if he’d already introduced you. The memory never comes, though, because he hasn’t, and he realizes a moment too late that you two already know each other, somehow, some way.

“You two know each other?”

You bite your lip, contemplating how you want to approach as you glance over at Brady. Because how do you tell your new fuck buddy that his teammate is your former fuck buddy?

“Brady and I…”

“We used to—”

“—we used to hang out when he lived in New York,” you finish for him, your eyes shifting hopefully to Andrei, praying that he won’t read between the lines and that Brady will take the hint to keep his mouth shut.

“Oh,” is all Andrei says, and in an instant you know that he has, in fact, put the pieces together. Of course, the way Brady’s eyes are glittering as he looks at you doesn’t help, either. You’re sure he’s reflecting on one of the many times he had you crying out his name in his bed after a party not-so-dissimilar to the one you’re at.

“Welcome to our joint birthday party,” he says with a warm smile, and you’re thankful that he’s decided to keep any extracurricular thoughts to himself.  “Did Svech tell you we share the same birthday?”

“No, he didn’t,” you smile back, offering him a ‘Happy Birthday’ as you raise your drink, taking an extra long gulp in an effort to aid your nerves. 

Brady thanks you, then excuses himself to greet a few other teammates who’ve walked in, leaving you standing awkwardly with Andrei. He’s quiet, toying with the label on his beer bottle, and you shift uncomfortably. 

Is he mad? Does he think I’m a whore? 

“I can leave, if you want me to,” you finally say quietly, deciding to just address the elephant in the room; Andrei isn’t stupid and has surely figured it out. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, instead casting your gaze to the hardwood floor. You know you didn’t do anything wrong, but you’d understand if he was no longer interested given the layer of complication Brady added to your relationship. 

Your words make him pause, and you can feel his eyes on you. He tucks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up to face him, looking you firmly in the eye. “No. I want you here.”

A rush of emotion floods your system, almost embarrassed at his display of affection. He’s never been so direct with you, and part of you wonders if the Brady discovery has forced it out of him. With a nod, you smile as he presses his lips to yours softly. 

Later, you find yourself in the hot tub with Andrei, Marty, and Nykki as the party starts to wane down, both the water and the heat in Andrei’s eyes causing your body to warm from the inside out. The conversation is light, casual, and your uncertainty after your unexpected reunion with Brady might as well have never happened. 

When Marty and Nykki bid their farewells a little while later, you’re alone with your new Russian friend, who scoots closer to you in the otherwise empty hot tub. Underneath the water, his large hand reaches for your knee, giving you a squeeze. You offer him a smile, trying to hide the effect he has on you.

“Brady seems pretty excited that you’re here.”

“I’m sure it was just the alcohol,” you wave off his comment, doing your best to hide your surprise that he’s returned to the topic.

Andrei hums, and you know he doesn’t believe your indifference, your nonchalant response. You wouldn’t either, if the roles were reversed. 

“It really wasn’t a big thing,” you add, feeling the need to clarify—to justify your past relationship. “It was totally casual.”

And then you feel his fingers take flight in a slow glide on your leg. Your breath hitches slightly when you realize, seeing the tiny smirk that creeps onto his face. His movements are skewed by the distortion in the water and the ripple in the surface, so he moves confidently and with little hesitation.

“Did he touch you here?” his voice purrs in your ear, his hand sliding up your thigh. 

“Andrei…”

“How about here?” his other hand caresses your breast, your nipple hardening under his touch despite the heat of the water. 

“Did he make you come?”

Up ‘til now, Andrei has been more than satisfactory in the bedroom, but he’s reserved. He’s not afraid to leave marks and show his strength a little bit, but you can tell he’s been holding something back, that there’s another layer hiding beneath his kind surface. He’s confident, that much is clear, but you’ve sensed an almost cocky interior that’s been waiting to make an appearance, biding its time until it can ravage you.

“Sure fuckin’ did, bud,” a voice that isn’t yours sounds from the patio. Both you and your companion look up in surprise, unaware that anyone was around. 

Brady stands with a hand in his pocket, a bottle of beer held loosely in his other as he observes the scene in front of him. You don’t know how long he’s been there, but you assume it’s been long enough for him to glean what’s happening—Andrei, jealous, claiming you back into his possession. Part of you wonders if he’d want to watch.

“Made her scream quite a bit, too.”

Instantly, you feel Andrei tense beside you, hand gripping onto your thigh as Brady welcomes himself into the hot tub. He’s calm, cool, collected, fully aware he’s riling Andrei up and flustering you at the same time.

Once he’s settled, he takes another swig of his beer before nodding at you. “Have to say, you were one of the biggest reasons I was disappointed to leave New York when I got traded.”

Andrei grimaces, the pulse point in his neck ticking. He knows what Brady’s doing, too, and he’s weighing his options. The last thing he wants to do is fight his own teammate, but he does want to wipe that smug expression off of his handsome face. Fuck, why did your previous exploit have to be him—the handsome Disney prince?

As he watches you and Brady make small talk, playing catch up on each other’s lives, Andrei contemplates. He could fall to follow Brady’s whims, loosening the control he has and blurring the line of who you’re here to see. 

Or he could push back. Assert himself, solidifying his place in your life as your man. 

And somehow, the second option seems much more appealing.

“Babe, come on,” he says, interrupting Brady’s hilarious story about the time he took the wrong subway in NYC, ignoring the way you giggle. “Let’s go into the sauna.”

Puzzled at the abrupt change of pace, you look at him and watch as he offers you his hand to help you out of the hot tub with a smile. With a shrug, you send Brady an apologetic glance before accepting it. You can feel his eyes on your ass as you step out, the warm water falling from your body.

Once you’re inside the sauna, Andrei turns up the temperature. As he sits down, he pulls you into his lap, easily adjusting your body until you’re straddling him. The wooden bench is warm and hard beneath your knees, but the way Andrei is looking at you is enough to distract you from any discomfort. 

His hand glides along your jaw, smirking once he sees the hitch in your throat. Part of you is anxious, worried that someone will walk in. Your mind flashes to Brady, sitting in the hot tub just around the corner, to the times where you’d been in the exact same position in his lap—though, admittedly, never in a sauna.

“I don’t mind that you slept with him,” comes Andrei’s deep voice, murmured lowly as he continues to trail light circles over your damp skin. Relief floods your mind, quickly replaced by surprise when he adds, “Actually, it’s kinda hot.”

“It is?”

Andrei nods with a hum, nipping at a spot on your neck. “Yeah. S’like he warmed you up for me.” 

Between his words and the heat of his mouth against your skin, you mewl. Before you have a chance to say anything back, his pillowy lips are pressing against yours in an open-mouthed kiss, hot and full of fire and unlike any other time he’s kissed you before. Surely the steam and the dim lighting adds to the aura, moisture building between your thighs as you feel where his groin is pressed against you.

“Don’t think I’d mind sharing,” he mumbles against your lips, the deep vibration of his voice buzzing on your mouth. You whimper at his implication, the thought of both of their lips working sinful magic on you almost too much to bear.

Of course, he notices your reaction; it’s impossible to ignore the way your hips roll steadily in his lap. His lips curl into a smile against yours. “Yeah? You’d like that?”

He pulls away, only slightly, to gauge your response. You cast your eyes down shyly, embarrassed, which only makes him smile harder at the contrast—shy despite admitting wanting to be fucked by two men. It’s cute, and it makes him want to ravage you even more than he already does.

“Could go get him right now, if you want,” he says softly. “It is our birthday, after all.”

Brady’s eyes glitter as he takes in the sight of you and Andrei approaching, hand in hand. Something’s different though, judging by the heave of your chest and the way your eyes avert his gaze; briefly, his mind flickers to what happened inside the sauna to yield your reaction. Andrei’s confident, smug, nodding at him in greeting. Something shifts in the air as they communicate silently, messages sent through a jerk of Andrei’s head and a sly smirk.

Eyebrows raised, Brady glances at you, hoping to catch your eye. The shyness of your glance is all he needs to confirm that you’re in, and a toothy grin breaks out on his handsome face. 

“Oh? You gonna give us both a little birthday treat?” he asks, taking in the way you’re nervously chewing on your lip.

The sound of water sloshing has you looking up, seeing water sliding down Brady’s muscular body as he stands up. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he makes his way down the steps and approaches you, tucking a finger under your chin. Flashes of silver in his hair shine in the dim light. “Aw, don’t be shy, sweetheart. You know I only bite if you want me to.”

His less-than-subtle words make the butterflies in your chest beat their wings, heart ticking a touch faster with both of them in such close proximity. It had never really formally ended with Brady, only a few texts exchanged to let you know he was moving and a vague promise to reach out the next time he was in town. He hadn’t, but you weren’t offended; it had never been that kind of relationship.

The indefinite end to your little tryst is what you attribute to the excited pulse of your heart in your throat, able to easily recall the feelings for Brady that had been left dormant over the last few years. They don’t compete with what you feel for Andrei, but they’re enough to have you buzzing as he leads you into the house.

The next thing you know, you find yourself in Brady’s bedroom—foreign to you, though you recognize the bed frame and the bookshelf from his apartment in New York. You shiver, cool now that the air conditioning hits your damp skin. It’s quickly remedied when Andrei’s firm body approaches you from behind, his broad, muscular chest pressed against your back while his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him. 

His lips begin a slow, teasing descent on the back of your neck and along your shoulder blade, not wasting any time by waiting for any sort of awkward introduction. You can feel Brady’s eyes on you, observing the way you react to Andrei’s touch, as if trying to remember what makes you tick. He’s gauging his next action, content for now to watch the way goosebumps break out over your skin and take in the small noises emitting from your throat.

Andrei’s large hands pull your hips backwards, until your ass is pressed against a very firm appendage, and you gasp. For all you’ve been worried about how Andrei will react, he seems to thoroughly enjoy the idea of sharing you. Brady’s eyes crinkle, his lips curling up into a smile.

“You like that, sweetheart? Is he hard for you?”

As if to ensure you know that he is, Andrei pushes his hips forward in a short thrust. He accentuates the movement with a nip to your shoulder before Brady’s stepping forward to close the gap between you. Before you can even register the two large bodies you’re deliciously sandwiched between, his lips are on yours in a kiss that sucks the air out of your lungs.

Brady’s hands snake their way up your jaw to tangle in your hair, his tongue quick to find yours as he re-familiarizes himself with your mouth. The feeling of his lips almost instantly recalls memories at the things he used to do to you with them, your unexpected reunion adding flame to the fire. Your mind is hazy, drunk on palomas and desire as Andrei’s hands tug your hips back to afford him the angle to grind his pelvis against you. The kiss is hot, and you’ve completely forgotten about the coolness of your damp swimsuit, your skin shockingly warm as the temperature continues to rise in Brady’s room.

Without warning, four hands flip you around in sync so that you’re facing Andrei, who greets you with a dimpled smirk. Brady’s hands, formerly in your hair, drag heat up your sides to land at your chest, tugging the material of your bikini top to the side to expose your breasts. As Andrei moves forward to kiss you, Brady massages each breast, his lips smirking against your shoulder blade when he hears you let out a faint moan. 

“Fuck, I missed these tits,” he mumbles. “They’re incredible, aren’t they, Svech?”

Andrei nods, leaning his head down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue circles around it, teeth nipping when it hardens beneath his touch, and your hand finds its place on the back of his head to hold him in place. He and Brady work in tandem, silently massaging your body as you succumb to the pleasure, head lolling back against Brady’s shoulder.

His lips press gently against your temple, drinking in the sighs you let out. It’s his turn to press his erection against your ass as he murmurs, “Can’t wait to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours again, darling. You’ve no idea how much I missed you.”

For being a Disney prince, Brady has always had a filthy mouth, never failing to strike at your deepest, most depraved desires. He mouths at your jaw, fingers flexing into the skin of your hips. “Bet you’re absolutely fucking soaked, aren’t you?”

You nod helplessly, gasping out when Andrei nips at your breast, almost as if to say, attention on me.

“Come sit on my face, malyshka,” he says lowly, eyes flicking to Brady’s with a smirk. Once he’s adjusted, laying flat on the mattress, he holds out his hand to help guide you onto the bed. “Face Brady. Want him to watch.”

You do as you’re told, adjusting as you straddle his chest and scoot forward. Andrei’s expression is hungry as you get into place, his eyes quickly focusing on the apex of your thighs and tugging you closer to his face. The man’s mouth is downright sinful, and you can’t help the way wetness pools between your legs as he devours you with his eyes alone.

It’s only then that you glance at Brady, whose hands are working at the tie on his swimming trunks before shedding the wet fabric to the floor with a whoosh. Your eyes feast on his erection, even more beautiful than you remember it, admiring the way he grips it tightly in his hands.

“You still get wet sucking dick, baby?” he asks, and Andrei answers with an enthusiastic fuck yeah she does before he’s latching his mouth onto your core.

A moan falls from your mouth as his skilled tongue tastes your folds with vigor. Brady allows you a moment to take in the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut while Andrei groans against you. The touch of his hand on your jaw has your eyes opening again, meeting the warmth of his brown irises.

“What do you say we give him a treat, hm? Let him taste how delicious you are?” 

You’re nodding so quickly that he laughs, helping to maneuver you so that you’re bent forward. With the change in angle, Andrei’s tongue is able to probe at your clit, while Brady guides his length toward your mouth. Eagerly, you accept him, the weight of him forgotten but familiar on your tongue.

It isn’t long before Brady’s head is falling back in a sigh as you work your way down his considerable length. He’s smooth, save for the pulsing vein on the underside, and you let the tip of your tongue run along it as you bob your head up and down. His hands tangle in your hair to steady himself, matching the way Andrei’s hands have now begun to grip your ass tightly.

“Still have never met someone who sucks dick as good as you do.”

Preening at his praise, you allow him deeper, finally pressed against the back of your throat as he groans lowly. Andrei’s voice is muffled, a deep “Fuck” murmured against your core as he reaps the reward of your arousal from sucking Brady off, growing wetter with each sound that escapes from his pretty throat.

Before long, the sinful work of Andrei’s tongue slows the movement of your own mouth, pulling yourself off of Brady’s length to mouth at the base as you moan. Your movements are slowed, distracted by the pleasure that your Russian is sending through your body. Brady reacts seamlessly, his hand gently guiding your mouth toward his balls, enjoying the way your tongue laves against the sensitive skin in combination with the moans that fall from your mouth. 

“You gonna come for him, sweetheart? Gush all over that handsome face of his?”

You barely have time to nod before Andrei’s tongue flicks and sends you into overdrive, a loud cry leaving your throat. His mouth works you through your climax, tongue furiously matching your movements to prolong it as he laps up your nectar. A low chuckle bubbles up from Brady’s chest, amused as he watches your body come down from its high.

“You always look so pretty when you come.”

“You’re both pretty when you come,” you shoot back, a wave of mischief passing through you, as though your orgasm reinvigorated your confidence. Brady offers his hand to help you slide off of Andrei’s face—though you wouldn’t have complained about staying there for the rest of the night. 

Andrei gives your ass a slap before he wipes off his face on the back of his hand. You can see remnants of you glistening on his upper lip, and the heat between you is palpable as he caresses your face before jerking his head back toward the mattress. “Go on, malyshka. Why don’t you show him how good you look when you ride my cock?”

With a smile, you nod, returning to a similar position as before, except this time, you’re straddling his waist rather than his face. And this time, instead of his warm tongue bobbing between your legs, it’s his dick, hard and weeping as it begs for entrance to your cunt.

You smirk at him, wrecked and panting beneath you, as you drag your hips along his length, grinding your clit against him as you hold yourself up on his muscular chest. Brady’s taken a seat on the bench at the foot of the bed, watching intently as he leisurely strokes himself.

“Don’t— don’t tease, kisa,” Andrei begs, the desperation in his voice near enough to make you moan. 

And who are you to argue? It is his birthday, after all.

Sinking down onto him, your mouth opens in a silent scream as you feel him stretching you open. He’s big, bigger than you’ve ever had before, and you’re still getting used to the way he hits spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Andrei likes it, though, smug at the slow way you swallow his length and hoping that Brady’s taken notice at the raw, pleasured moan that you let out. The thought disappears quickly when he bottoms out inside you, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment to accommodate his size, feeling the way he pulses inside your heat. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, and Andrei silently encourages you by resting his large hands on your hips for support. He’s patient, waiting for you to move, and eventually you do.

Soon, you’re moving in a steady rhythm, the sound of his thighs clapping against your ass filling the room. Andrei’s hands help to move you on his length, but his eyes are distracted by the bounce of your breasts. Briefly, your eyes meet Brady’s, who’s equally torn at whether to look at your face or your tits. 

In a sudden movement, Andrei’s hands are gripping your hips and flipping you over, your back abruptly hitting the mattress near Brady’s thigh. You barely have time to register the new position before his large hands are pulling apart your legs and pushing himself inside you, instantly setting a hurried pace. 

It’s a display of dominance, of the ease in which he can manhandle you, like a reminder to both you and Brady who you belong to. He might be sharing with his teammate for the night, but at the end of the day you’re still his girl. He drives pleasure into you with each push of his hips, his hands gripping your sides so tightly you think there might be bruises tomorrow. The force of his thrusts are enough to render you speechless, and your eyes close as you absorb every sensation he brings to life.

The feeling of Andrei’s lips on your jaw and the rough sound of him panting in your ear have your eyes blinking open. You catch Brady’s expression, hungry, as he watches the way Andrei claims you for his own. A fire ignites in his eyes when he watches Andrei’s hand snake between your bodies, the pad of his finger quickly finding your clit.

Instead of maintaining his rhythm and driving you to your second crest, he slows his hips to a painstaking pace. He’s unable to prevent the smirk that blooms on his face at the way you instantly whine, pulsing around him desperately.

“You like having an audience, don’t you?” he teases, accent thick. “You like that he’s watching me fuck you, huh?”

“Andrei,” you rasp, your hands clutching onto his biceps that are far too large for you to hold. “Please.”

“Answer him, sweetheart,” comes Brady’s voice. It’s not a command, but you want to obey anyways, and you nod with a gasp as Andrei pauses inside you, balls deep while he waits for your reply. “You like being on display, hm?”

“Y-yes, I love when- when he watches,” you stutter. “Drei— please —”

“Well, I love him watching you come undone for me. First my tongue, now all over my cock. Isn’t that right, baby?”

A strangled moan is your reply, eyes rolling back as he presses directly against your g-spot, pausing for a moment to feel the way you throb around him. There’s something so incredibly hot about his admission, wanting Brady to see the effect he has on you.

“You can do it, kisa,” he murmurs, his hips resuming their delayed pace. “Come for me.”

All at once, you realize he’s not going to speed up, instead content to drive you slowly to insanity. His calm, confident demeanor is annoyingly sexy, as is the smug expression on his face. The pressure of his finger on your clit sends fireworks through your core, the steady punch of his dick against your g-spot enough to make your toes curl.

Your mouth falls open as he pushes you closer to the cliff, and around a thick accent, he demands, “Fucking come for me, dorogoy.”

You have no choice but to obey, your climax surging through you as your legs go stiff around Andrei’s hips. Distantly, you can hear Brady groan while Andrei hums in approval. The movement of his hips don’t cease, instead working you through your high until your legs fall limply to the mattress.

He sits back, eyes glued to your pussy as he pulls out, pleased with the way his dick is coated in your orgasm.  

“Fuck, look at the mess you made,” he smirks. You do, and through the haze of your orgasm, you itch to taste him. But then, he’s turning his focus  toward his friend, and your attention shifts. “She’s all yours, Skjeisy.”

“Best birthday gift you could ever get me, Svech,” Brady replies, eyes raking over your body hungrily. 

Your cheeks warm at his words, suddenly shy again as you glance up at him through your lashes. He stands before you, muscular and handsome, the streaks of gray in his hair shining silver in the low light of the room. The word daddy comes to mind, but you keep it to yourself, instead watching as he shifts onto the mattress.

“You still like taking it in the ass, baby?” he asks, and your heart flutters at his question. You haven’t done that with Andrei, not yet; you haven’t even broached the subject. But now he’s looking at you with heat in his eyes, slightly surprised but more than that, he’s intrigued. 

You bite your lip and nod, unable to prevent the grin that spreads on your face as Brady hums, surely reminiscing on your past encounters. Andrei’s eyes are hot on you, though you can’t look away from Brady’s as he tugs you closer to where he’s knelt on mattress. His mouth is quick to find yours again, his tongue not wasting any time, as if to let you know how eager he is.

When he plunges two fingers into you, they slip in with ease from your arousal and your orgasm. He pulses them, exploring the tightness of your cunt, his dick throbbing against his leg as he does. Brady whistles when he pulls out two glistening fingers, observing at the way they shine in the dim light of the bedroom. 

“Be a good girl and taste yourself for me,” he says, voice sweet like honey as he pushes the fingers past your lips. It’s tangy and salty on your tongue, but you suck them obediently, relishing the flavor.

Andrei groans at the way your lips wrap around the digits, undoubtedly reminiscing on the time it’s been his fingers or his dick subjected to the pleasures of your mouth. 

Brady murmurs to Andrei, something about the bedside table, and he disappears and reappears in an instant with a bottle of lube in his hand. With both hands, Brady maneuvers your body and positions you so you’re on your knees, your face pressed against the soft sheet on the bed. You feel his fingers run over your pussy, still sensitive from Andrei’s treatment, clicking his tongue at the way it looks glistening with your cum. He catches some of the liquid oozing out on his finger and drags it up toward your puckered hole, circling lightly before he adds a healthy drizzle of lube. Once you’re thoroughly primed, he pushes the tip of his index into you.

A loud cry leaves your lips, the sensation vaguely familiar but strange. Brady takes his time, working you open until he gradually adds a second finger. 

“You think you can take both of us, sweetheart?” he whispers, his voice silky smooth. Your eyes widen, connecting with Andrei’s, who offers a smug wink. Damn them and their teammate telepathy, making you feel like the third wheel even though you’re the one they’re fucking.

When you nod, Andrei shakes his head and tilts your chin up to meet his eyes again. “Gotta hear you say it, kisa.”

“Yes, I want to,” you say, though you can’t hide the shake in your voice. Whether it’s from nerves or the way that Brady’s fingers are probing your ass, you aren’t entirely sure.

Andrei’s voice is soft, a stark contrast to the scene in Brady’s bedroom. “If you want to stop, at any time, just say the word, and we’re done, okay?” 

His words are comforting, and suddenly you feel yourself throb with desire at the thought of both of them filling you up. You’re nodding again, your voice a bit more desperate this time as Brady adds his tongue to the movement of his fingers, the heat from his mouth enough to make you cry out. 

“Fuck, you taste even better than I remember,” he groans against you, lapping up the moisture that gathers around his fingers. Andrei hums in agreement, taking in the way your eyes roll back in your head at his teammate’s sinful work. 

Once you’ve been thoroughly manhandled and maneuvered on top of Andrei and beneath Brady, sandwiched between the heat of their bodies, you let out another whimper when Andrei slides himself into your pussy. The feeling is familiar, unlike the sensation of Brady easing himself past the tight ring of your ass. He’s slow, steady, reminding you to breathe while Andrei rubs gentle circles on your waist with his thumb, pressing open-mouthed kisses at the base of your throat.

When you cry out, Brady freezes, waiting patiently for you to grant permission to keep going. As the unusual feeling subsides, you do, turning your head to find his cheek that you whisper a soft please against. 

Eventually, Brady’s hips reach the globes of your ass, and both of them are fully sheathed in you. The breath in your lungs has vanished, replaced by everything them. Never in your life have you felt more whole, more complete; stuffed – literally – to the brim in a deliciously taboo way, completely and entirely theirs. With your face buried in the crook of Andrei’s neck, you beg them to move.

Brady’s hands grip your sides tightly as he alters his movements with Andrei’s. Push, pull, push, pull. Deep, hot puffs of breath hit you from both sides, encasing you between them. The feeling is otherworldly, delicious, and now that you’ve grown accustomed to feeling so full, you’re insatiable, crying out and letting the pleasure rake through you. 

“Who knew I’d get to fuck this perfect ass again,” Brady muses, breaking the symphony of heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin. “Happy fucking birthday to me.”

Filthy words and promises spew from Brady’s mouth, praising you and reminding you of the many times he’s brought you to a crest; meanwhile, Andrei whispers broken Russian as his mouth marks up your collarbone. It makes you whimper, hearing the way you wreck him, feeling the way he throbs inside of you with his hands gripping your sides.

“I’m –” you pant, “I’m c-close.”

“Yeah? You gonna come all over these birthday cocks?” Brady teases, leaning back to watch the way he splits you open, murmuring in approval at the sight. “What a good little slut, taking both of us on our birthday.”

It’s not until Andrei’s face scrunches up as he hits his own climax that you are sent spiraling into yours, the feeling of his warmth spilling into your core the catalyst for your own release. A loud cry escapes your mouth, calling a jumble of cuss words, eyes squeezing shut as you let the waves roll through you.

“Holy fuck,” Brady groans, “I didn’t think your asshole could get any tighter. Fuck.”

His voice is losing its edge, a little more breathy as he pounds into you, seeking his high. A few moments later he pauses with a loud grunt as he, too, climaxes. After a pause to catch his breath, throbbing wantonly inside you, he pulls out with another groan, followed quickly by a whistle.

“Svech,” he says, “Come here and look at this.”

Another maneuver has Andrei slipping out from beneath you, meeting his teammate’s side to gaze at your backside, dripping two sets of cum and surely looking thoroughly wrecked. In their absence, you feel so empty, clenching desperately around nothing.

Andrei hums before you feel his hand on your ass, pulling apart your cheeks to get a better look. He murmurs something in Russian, pleased. 

You barely have a moment to register warm breath and the scratch of his five o’clock shadow before his tongue is licking a thick stripe from your clit all the way up to your ass, lapping up the liquid that’s drooling out of your holes. The sensation is euphoric, if not overstimulating, but he knows exactly what he’s doing to drive you just a little bit more insane.

Brady chuckles behind you at the sound of your whimpers, muffled only by the pleasured sighs coming from Andrei against your center, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you filled with birthday cum. He laps you up like a starving man, and you’re about to push him away when he’s parting from you of his own accord.

With Brady’s help, he flips you over so you’re facing them. Brady’s expression is smug, gazing down at you hotly—as if he didn’t just ruin you, and wants to ruin you again. Andrei, though, is looking at you softly, a sharp contrast to the way his face glistens with your juices. He licks his lips, and if you were standing, your knees would’ve gone weak at the sight. 

With a nudge at Andrei’s arm, he grins. “Happy birthday, dude.”

SIMILAR CONTENT:

Sundress Season

Glittery

A Night in Paris

Midnight Rain (blurb)

[senditcolton]

If You Want It Done

summary: after a disappointing playoff loss, brady reappears on your doorstep eight months after he ended things. and he has nothing on his mind but taking out his frustrations by having you desperate and keening for him once again. however, you aren't about to submit without a fight.

song inspo: NFWB by Hozier & Rats by Motionless in White word count: 5.1k warnings: feminine reader. smut! hair pulling, fingering, unprotected penetration, spanking, slight choking, oral (m receiving), and - as always - a healthy amount of dirty talk. plus somewhat toxic and insanely cocky brady.

a/n: no tricks here. just a sweet treat in the form of long- awaited Brady Skjei smut. technically it's a continuation of this blurb, but i just combined the original and the addition into one fic for you all. enjoy and happy halloween.

Sadness. Humiliation. Shame.

Those should be the emotions running through Brady as the plane lands back in Carolina after Game 4 of the Eastern Conference Finals. Because he wasn’t back ready to fight for another win. He was here to pack his bags and go home.

The best team in the Metro. Swept. By a wild card team who barely made the playoffs.

It was a disaster, an embarrassment. And Brady should feel the heavy weight of that failure, even if he might only be responsible for one-nineteenth of the blame. Or, at least, he should feel the waves of sadness crashing over him about the way it ended, or the mere fact that it did end.

But he didn’t. Perhaps he had earlier, when that final buzzer sounded and the fans in South Florida cheered. But now, having sat with those feelings for the better part of 24 hours, he was no longer sad.

He was angry.

And so, when the wheels touched down in Raleigh and he collected his car, he didn’t drive home.

Instead, he drove to yours.

~

A tired sigh leaves you as you pull up to your quaint cottage-style home. A long work week was cause for an even longer relaxing weekend and you were ready to start that weekend by getting inside and having a long nap. Or a strong drink. Or perhaps both.

However, after hopping out of your car and wandering up the small path that leads to your front door, your plans placed on a momentary hold when you see someone leaning against your siding, their baseball cap pulled low.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you call out, ready for this stranger to flash you an award-winning smile and tell you all about how their company could save you money on roofing repairs after last week’s storm.

But when their head lifts, you stop in your tracks as you recognize the face staring back at you.

Hell, you used to wake up to it every morning for eight months. Until he ended things.

“Brady.”

His name falls from your mouth in complete practiced apathy. You didn’t need him to know how much time you spent crying over him in the last month. You especially didn’t need him to know how your heart still skipped a beat when his eyes connected to yours.

“Did you see the game?” he asks.

“I heard.”

“And?”

“And what? Do you want to cry for you?”

There’s a humorless chuckle that comes from Brady as his head falls before he takes a step towards you.

“You always knew how to make me feel better,” he says, the sarcasm lacing his voice. And when you hear it, that dry scathing tone, you realize that you didn’t recognize the man in front of you.

Brady was always soft, gentle, welcoming. It made the dichotomy between you even more obvious; you all sharp edges and harsh words and burning fire. It was part of the reason the two of you broke up.

But this Brady… there was something different. Something dangerous. it intrigued you. But not enough for you to give in.

“I’m not going to coddle you, Brady. You should know that by now.” 

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

“What do you want then?” you ask, finally taking a few steps forward, closing the gap between you and your front door. “You want my pity? You want me to say ‘poor you, poor Brady’?”

It’s your turn to let a scoff fall from your lips as you reach into your bag for your keys, Brady now behind you.

“If you wanted someone to feel sorry for you, you came to the wrong fucking house,” you explain, unlocking the door.

Before you can even reach the handle, you feel Brady step forward, his hands falling on your hips as his body crowds you into the smooth wood. You attempt to take a deep breath to calm your heart but it doesn’t help because when you breathe in, your senses are filled with the smell of his cologne. A smell so familiar. One you missed.

Brady moves closer, his body almost pinning you to the door and you can’t stop your knees from trembling as you feel the heat of him behind you.

“I came here because I missed you,” he whispers into your ear.

“And it took you getting your ass kicked to realize that?” you shoot back. Although, the waver in your voice betrays you, revealing how much your body was responding to him; his touch, his words, his warmth. Brady just lets his previous sentence continue, as if he didn’t even hear you.

“And because I know you missed me just as much.”

You couldn’t let him do this – let him come crawling back to you when he was broken or bored. You no longer belonged to him. It was a recipe for disaster.

“I think you’ve forgotten that I’m not one of those girls that would fall on their knees for you.”

“You seemed to enjoy being on your knees for me when we were together.”

“And we’re not together anymore. So, find someone else to fuck your frustrations out on.”

“Is that what you did?”

“None of your business.”

You feel his grip on your hips tighten and you barely have time to react as he effortlessly spins your body until your back is pressed against the wood of the door, your eyes now looking up at him.

“You’re lying.”

Brady almost spits out the words, as if even the barest suggestion that what you said was true was poison to him. Your eyes follow the movement in his temple, the clenching of his jaw, the storm in his eyes. This wasn’t the side of Brady that you knew.

But it was a side that you were always curious to discover. Throughout those eight months, you wanted to know if Brady had that same fire hiding within him – a passion and intensity that could match yours. And now, you could finally see it peeking through.

You wanted it to come out completely. 

“And you can tell?” you ask, wielding your words with edge and precision. “Does that make you feel worse? If I told you about all the other men that ended up in my bed?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t? Are you sure? You knew what you giving up when you left. Can’t blame me for moving on.”

“You wouldn’t,” Brady repeats, one hand falling away and you barely have time to comprehend where it had gone when you feel the steady weight of the door fall away from you.

Your body lurches back, the momentum pulling you until it is abruptly stopped by Brady’s strong arms, pulling you close and lifting you over the threshold. Your feet find the hardwood of your floors before Brady is spinning you again and you find yourself pressed against the door once more, this time inside your house instead of without.

“You wouldn’t,” he reiterates, “because no one could make you feel as good as I did.”

You hear the deadbolt click, the sound causing the heat pool in your stomach. Brady’s hand moves back to your hip, pulling you close again as he leans in until your lips are barely touching. It’s intoxicating, having him this close to you once again. You are about to surge forward, connect your lips to his, let your fire burn with his. Until Brady speaks again.

“No one could make you feel as good as I’m about to.”

That statement pulls all rationality from you and you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you, crashing your lips onto his. Brady returns the kiss with as much intensity, his hands gripping you tighter while yours move to trace over his arms, his broad shoulders before tangling into that salt-and-pepper hair. The kiss is frantic, all teeth and tongues and it takes a moment before Brady finally pulls away, connecting those brown eyes to your own

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “You always will be.”

The words cut right through you; as a threat or a promise, you weren’t really sure. But the instant that Brady crashes his lips back into yours, you find that you don’t care.

God, you missed this. You would be lying if you didn’t spend many restless nights reminiscing on how his hands felt on your body. How his lips felt on your skin.

But you wouldn’t tell him that. The words would never leave your mouth, not while Brady is standing in front of you. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. At least, not yet.

Instead, you get lost in Brady’s kisses, your hands coming to tangle deeper in his hair, pulling him closer to you as your hips roll up to meet his. You think you can hear a dark chuckle rumble from Brady and vibrate directly into your body, sending sparks of electricity flowing through you. His hands roam across your body, up from your hips to the soft material of your blouse before landing on your breasts, giving them a squeeze, causing your head to fall back.

“Missed these perfect tits,” he mumbles, his movements against your chest continuing in response to the soft moan falling from your mouth. Your moan turns into a sharp gasp as Brady grips the center of your shirt and tears it open. The sound of the buttons scattering across the hardwood floor floods your ears and it inexplicably turns you on even more.

If this was any other man, you would be pissed off at him for ruining your one of your favorite shirts. But this was Brady. A new Brady.

In those eight months you were with him, he was nothing but a gentleman, both outside and inside the bedroom. And he was more than satisfactory. But you knew there had to be something underneath all that charm. An untamed animal just waiting to be unchained.

And if this was the key to its cage, you weren’t about to stop everything to cry over a few buttons. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to complain at all.

“You’re buying me a new shirt,” you mutter against Brady’s lips. Brady swiftly removes his mouth from yours as he looks down at your newly exposed bra.

“Gonna buy you something new to wear under it,” comes his response as his thumbs trace over the edge of the plain nude material and this time, you can stop your eyes from rolling in annoyance.  

“Do you really think I wear lingerie to work?” you quip, staring up at him.

You can see his eyes harden and it is in that moment that you realize he was enjoying this. The chase, the tease, the dare, the push and pull between the two of you.

“If you don’t like it,” you continue, your voice taking on a sultry tone as you continue to meet his dark brown eyes, “then take it off.”

The quick sparkle that appears in his brown eyes makes you think that he has taken the bait, that you might have gained some control over the situation at hand – a situation that you were wholly unprepared for but welcomed none the less. And when Brady leans back in to lock you lips together once again, his hands wandering around your ribcage towards your back, the confidence grows.

However, it takes a sharp plummet when you feel his hands drop from your frame. If Brady had given you a split second longer, you would have broken the kiss to question or quip him again. But you have barely any time to miss the sensation of his hands on your skin before you feel them grip the back of your thighs as Brady uses his athletic strength to effortlessly lift you off the floor.

You gasp, a gasp that Brady gladly swallows before he spins, tearing his lips away from yours to look around your house. There is a part of you that wants to tell him nothing has changed from the last time he was there – the furniture is the same, your bedroom is still two doors down on the left – but your lips have already busied themselves marking the smooth skin on his neck.

There was also a power in your decisions; forcing him to find his way through your space all while doing your best to distract him. And it seems to be working as you feel Brady’s pulse shudder underneath your mouth.

You feel him take a lurching turn right and a slight flash of confusion runs through you until you feel his body lowering. The soft material of your couch hits your knees and the skirt you had on flows out around you as you now straddle Brady.

“Forgot where the bedroom was?” you chirp into his neck, feeling his desperate hands return to your torso as he removes the tattered remains of your blouse from your waistband.

It seems that it takes a minute for your words to register but when they do, Brady’s hand lifts to tangle in your hair. Another gasp escapes from your chest as his fingers tighten before pulling your head away from his neck. He quickly reverses the roles, his own lips moving to your newly exposed throat, your breath transforming from gasps to soft sighs as his mouth works against your skin.

“Who says I’m not going to take you there after I’m done here?”

“Who says I would let you back into my bed anyway?” you retort to keep some semblance of control.

Your pathetic attempt is clearly read by Brady, who makes you falter once again as the hand not tangled in your hair effortlessly unclasps your bra. His lips depart from your neck as he helps slide the material down your arms, throwing it carelessly somewhere in the room. You both hate and love the smirk that appears on his face as he takes in your heaving chest, your pebbled nipples. His dark eyes dart back up to you briefly before he is tugging you into him for another animalistic kiss.

“Seems that you like it so far,” he whispers into your open mouth before he pulls away again, lifting your body upright and pulling you closer. “I’ll take my chances.”

You wish that you could say something back, something to knock his arrogant confidence down a peg but your mind goes blank as his lips move to your collarbone, leaving faint hickeys against the taut skin before moving down to your chest. His lips close around one of your nipples, tongue moving to tease the sensitive peak as his hands rest on your ribcage, his thumbs running across the delicate skin on the underside of your breasts. Your hands fly to the back of his head, keeping him close and you can feel his lips curl against your skin. The action both turns you on and pisses you off, a combination that you weren’t sure could even work until now.

You fly into action, hands moving down to grip the fabric stretched across his broad shoulders, tugging at the material and pulling it upward before he finally breaks away to help you remove the shirt entirely, tossing it away to join your clothes on the living room floor.

His lips return to your chest, moving to leave no skin unmarred with his love bites as your hands drop to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle in silent encouragement. Brady’s hands lower before coming to grip your ass and you gasp as he pulls you forward, the action causing your hips to roll. You both let out moans at the sensation of you grinding against him and it turns you on more to feel his erection against your core.

“And here I thought I was the masochist,” you joke, moving your hips of your own volition, pressing deeper into him. The grunt that your actions pull from his chest has you grinning. “Who’d know you get this hard from getting your ass kicked?”

You must’ve struck a nerve, prodded at the memory he came here to forget, because the only thing you hear in response is what could best be described as a growl before he lifts you off of his lap enough to slip out from underneath you. Your brain recognizes the weight of his body disappearing from the couch and you attempt to turn, just to keep your eyes locked on him but Brady doesn’t give you a chance.

His large hand finds the space between your shoulder blades and pushes you forward, your torso falling until your chest meets the back cushions. You can’t stop the gasp that falls, your arms lifting over the edge of the couch as your back arches, your hips pressing back towards Brady now looming behind you.

A dark chuckle echoes throughout the room in response to your actions as he pulls the material of your skirt over your hips, exposing more of your body to him. He doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t even bother removing your underwear, instead choosing to move it to the side before he slips two fingers into your already soaked core.  

You let out a moan, your head falling forward as Brady’s hand moves, winding you up and my God, you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the feeling. His thumb quickly finds your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves and you can’t stop the way your body responds to his movements.

“That’s what I thought,” he laughs. “You have no right to that attitude when you’re this fucking desperate for me.”

He emphasizes his words with a curl of his fingers, the tips grazing your g-spot and the combined sensation of his hands skillfully moving against you almost has you falling over the edge. Brady doesn’t give you your satisfaction that easily though as he removes his fingers from your core. You whimper at the loss, listening intently to Brady’s movements behind you, impatient to feel him once more.

Brady doesn’t leave you wanting for long as you hear the rustle of his pants hitting the floor and before you can blink, you feel his hands practically tear your panties down your legs before he enters you in one swift, harsh motion.

The moans that you both let out are delicious and desperate. You whine as you move your hips back, pushing him impossibly deeper. Brady groans, his hands quickly finding purchase on your hips, gripping you tight before he begins to move.

“Oh god,” you moan out as Brady fucks into you with quick hard thrusts, showing no mercy, your ass rippling every time it meets his hips. You are grateful for the couch cushions in front of you, helping to support your upper body as your fingers dig into the fabric so deeply that an irrational part of you worries you might tear it.

“Not God, sweetheart. Just me,” Brady replies, his movements barely faltering. “Come on, say my name.”

You wish you could tell him to fuck off, make a quip about his cocky attitude but your mouth doesn’t seem able to form the words or any words for that matter. The only thing you want is for him to continue. A sharp smack against your ass jolts your body forward and your head whips around in surprise, eyes connecting to Brady.

“Say. My. Name,” he repeats, now more command than anything else, every word punctuated by another spank and you are helpless to comply.

“Brady,” you whine, your desperation painted on every letter, your eyes staying locked on him, drinking in his reaction. He groans, his teeth coming to bite his lower lip, his gaze dropping from your face to connect to where his cock disappears into your pussy.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.”  

His quiet encouragement is all you need to continue moaning his name over and over. One of his hands falls from your hips to join yours in gripping the back of the couch, his body now completely covering yours, the new leverage only increasing the strength in which Brady thrusts into you. Your head falls to rest against the back cushion, the sounds of your staccato whimpers and breathy curses filling the living room along with the continuous depraved slapping of skin against skin.

You whine as you feel his hand disappear from your hip and slowly trace up your body, the softness of his touch a sharp contrast. The gentleness doesn’t last long and your whine turns into a gasp as Brady’s large hand wraps around your throat, pulling your head upwards.

“Keep saying my name,” he says, his hot breath fanning across the shell of your ear. “Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.”

“You are, Brady.”

“Yeah? Can anyone else fuck you like I can?”

“No. Only you.”

“That’s right. Only me,” he growls in satisfaction, emphasizing his words with his rhythm.

“Fuck, Brady, please,” you plead, your voice strained from how much focus it took to pry the words from your mouth. “I’m close.”

“Well then, come on sweetheart. Touch yourself. Remind me how good it feels when you cum on my cock.”

The speed in which your hand falls is reckless, frantic to get that additional pressure that you were craving. As soon as your fingers press against your clit, your head falls back against Brady’s shoulder in relief. His praise is muffled against your skin as he peppers your shoulder with kisses, only interrupted by quiet curses as he feels your core flutter.

It is hot, so unbelievably hot – how he’s fucking you, how he’s holding you – that it doesn’t take long for you to finally fall over the precipice, your own hand faltering against you as your orgasm rocks through your body. A groan falls from Brady as he feels you clench around him; a groan that he muffles by sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, the additional sensation causing you to moan louder, hips rocking back against him as his motions halt.

The haze that pricked at the corner of your eyes slowly dissipates and you can feel Brady’s hand fall from your neck. The cool air cascades over your back as Brady lifts himself away from you causing goosebumps to appear. A small whimper escapes when you feel him remove himself from your core and steps away. The submissive part of your mind, still in control, panics in fear that he might leave. But the concern is short lived as Brady sits down next to you, pulling you back into his lap.

He wastes no time capturing you in another kiss, stealing any remaining breath from your lungs. Brady attempts to break the kiss but you don’t let him, hands lifting to cup his jaw and pulling him deeper into the kiss. He doesn’t resist and allows you to continue to kiss him, his own arms wrapping around your body.

Eventually your hands move, trailing down his throat, dancing over his chest and you smile against his lips as you feel his abs tighten in response to your fingers sinking lower until they finally reach the desired destination.

You gently take his still hard length in your hand and stroke him a few times, which was easy to do with your prior release clinging to the silky-smooth skin. You grin as you feel the vibrations of Brady’s soft moan in response to your ministrations. The cloud of your orgasm had lifted and, in its absence, your own confidence returned.

“Want me to take care of that for you?” you question, only moving far enough away to ask, your lips brushing against his occasionally. Brady doesn’t respond; you knew he wouldn’t. He had worked too hard to give up the dominance he held over you so easily. But you weren’t deterred.

You kiss him deeply one more time before your lips follow the path your hands previously traced: down his throat, over his collarbones, across his chest. An occasional moan and curse fall from Brady as you continue your descent and you grin, knowing that his resolve was slowly cracking. Your body moves, shuffling from being perched on top of his lap to kneel on the plush carpet between his thighs. Brady’s eyes are needy when your own eyes dart up to meet his stare. Your hand strokes him again but you make no attempt to put your mouth on him, the dare hanging clearly in the air.

“Baby, please,” Brady finally speaks, his hips punching upwards.

“Who’s fucking desperate now?” you quip, unable to contain your excitement at regaining the upper hand. Your jaw drops open in surprise as Brady’s hand darts out, grabbing your neck once more, his eyes growing dark.

“You want to repeat that sweetheart?” he asks, that dominant energy rolling off him again. Except this time, it doesn’t make you back down. Instead, it just spurs you on, that heat and elation as it returns – the battle, the chase. Your dropped jaw just morphs into a wicked grin and you are ecstatic to see a similar smirk twist onto Brady’s lips; a quiet confirmation that he was still enjoying the newfound push and pull between you two.

“Come on Brady. Admit it. You are just as desperate for me as I am for you,” you explain, your voice dipping again into your lower sultry timbre. “Tell me, do any of those other girls have a mouth like mine?”

You flatten your tongue against his shaft and lick a bold stripe up his length before moving your lips to leave a lingering teasing kiss on the head. Brady groans, his head falling back as his hand moves from your neck to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer in an attempt for you to fully wrap your lips around him.

“No one can fuck me like you can?” you continue, hand wrapping around his cock. “Well, you’ll never find someone who can give better head than I can.”

You don’t give him any chance to respond as you surge forward, finally taking him into your wet mouth. Your tongue traces every vein that you could feel as your hand moves against the rest of him. Brady’s moans sounding from above fuel you and you continue to work your sinful magic against his skin.

It may have been months since you two were in this particular position but you feel like a part of you will remember everything about Brady, including all the spots that make him groan and twitch and throb. Your lips move to suck on the tip, teasing the area where the head meets the shaft with your tongue.

“Fuck,” Brady curses, his hips jumping causing his cock to thrust into your mouth. You gag a little before withdrawing – not completely but only enough to catch your breath. Your eyes dart to his and find that he is already staring at you, his salt-and-pepper hair falling over his forehead. The moan you release at the sight vibrates around Brady causing an identical moan to escape him. You inhale deeply before lowering your head, relaxing your throat until the entirety of his cock is nestled in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking good at that,” he groans, his fingers twisting in your hair. You move, shallowly bobbing your head as you feel him pulse against your tongue, a tell-tale sign he was getting close. The assumption was only confirmed by the next word Brady spoke. “Fuck, baby, gonna cum.”

You pull your mouth from him, replacing it quickly with your hand and continuing the pace you had set.

“I won’t waste a drop,” you say, keeping your eyes locked to his as you wrap your lips around him once again, your hands moving to the side his thighs and pressing your fingertips up into them. Brady understands your silent request, hand once again tightening in your hair as he moves his hips upward, taking control.

“Yeah? You going to swallow it all like a good girl?”

You nod your head, keeping your mouth open and accepting everything he gives, moaning against his skin as he increases his pace. It’s only a few more moments before Brady throws his head back against the couch cushions, a long groan emulating from his chest as his own orgasm hits. You feel his cum hit the back of your throat and you greedily pull him deeper, determined to keep your word.

You let Brady collect himself and take a few deep breaths before you slowly raise your head, sliding off of his cock. You wait until his eyes connect to yours before you swallow, releasing a satisfied exhale afterwards. You can’t help but make a show of it, licking your lips before opening your mouth to show him that you indeed didn’t let anything go to waste.

Brady grins, a smile which you quickly mirror before his hands are on your body, hauling you off the floor and back into his lap. Your lips connect and you sigh, savoring the euphoric glow that surrounded the two of you. The two of you continue to make out for a few minutes, relaxing before you pull away, looking down at Brady.

“D’you feel better?” you joke, the remembrance of why he came to your house in the first place – and what it all meant now – nagging in the back of your mind. You aren’t sure if you can see sadness lingering on the corners of Brady’s smile as his hand runs soothing circles across your spine.

“A little.”

“Need anything else?”

“Maybe a shower,” he replies, looking up at you with those brown eyes that always made you weak. A sparkle that spells nothing but trouble for you flashes in his irises as his smile turns into a wicked smirk. “And perhaps a round two, starting with my head buried between your thighs.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” you breathlessly chuckle, your head shaking in playful disbelief as your tear your gaze from his.

“I just know what I want.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

His quiet declaration has your head turning back to him, connecting your eyes once again. The emotions displayed in his own stare are unfathomable and you know that this isn’t the place to attempt to decipher them. You don’t have time to unwind and unravel the mess that defined you and Brady’s connection: your prior relationship, the subsequent break-up, and everything that happened today.

So, instead, you gently climb from Brady’s lap, standing upright before stretching out your hand towards him. He accepts your offer and you help lift him off the sofa before dragging him down the hallway to the second door on the left, back into your bed.

Like he always belonged there.

Like he never left.

tagging the skjei-sy sluts (affectionate) who asked for a continuation + a few others I think would appreciate this: @smileysvech @pyotrkochetkov @cellythefloshie @comphy-and-cozy @laurenairay

[behoright]

could you do a kids night blurb for brady skjei? 🥺

kids night with fiancé! brady

this is late SORRY but I mean who doesn't want this at any point. so. warnings: smut, smut, smut. breeding/ pregnancy kink n cursing lol

hahahhaha sooo

basically

you guys have been dating FOREVER

recently engaged tho

you had the most beautiful proposal

stuff from your dreams

brady is the sweetest man but honestly

he's wild in the bedroom

he likes sex to be really dirty and nasty most of the time

you guys are veeery private about it

usually no public sex or anything like that

because he likes to have his space and privacy to

literally say and do the nastiest shit to you

and not have to worry about it

he's very good at hiding his arousal in public

there's only been a couple times that you saw it affect him

he'll just play it cool until you get home

we will say this

brady loves the shit out of you

he is 100% sure you're the only one for him forever

the only reason he took a while to propose is

bc he wanted every. single. thing. to be perfect

he feels the same about your wedding

you plan to be engaged for a while and take it slow

take as long as you both need with the planning

he has very much big heart eyes for you

and yes

he does dream about seeing you pregnant or as a mom

he thought about it beforehand but

it took him by surprise when it SPIKED after the engagement

seeing that ring on your finger just does something to him

he dreams about the most domestic shit

coming home from a roadie and seeing you play with your kids

or in bed rubbing your belly

he's actually been dreaming about it

a lot

and he's very overwhelmed by it

every single night a new wholesome dream but it gives him a huge throbbing hard on

he hasn't said anything to you bc its just a phase and

lowkey scared of putting pressure on you

so he's shhh

but uh kids night rolls around

and seeing you mess around with the kids

or hold TWO babies at once

feed them a bottle oof

the fantasies plague him all day long

he's so disconnected and people notice

especially you

but he's "fine, all good. no worries."

he squirts a lil extra water in his face throughout the game bc

he legitimately cannot stop thinking about you so happy with those babies

what if one day you guys have twins

two baby boys that would look ju-

THE GAME FOCUS FOCUS

during the surge tbh

yes there's many kids around but

he knows where you sit in the crowd and he finds your gaze

looks at you ALL THROUGHOUT

does not break eye contact with you from the ice

everyone notices it

you squirm a lil in your seat sjkdfkjdc

he pins you to the wall as soon as you get home

his tongue deep in your mouth

while he grinds up into you

when he takes you to the bedroom he's still kissing you

you're lucky you don't stumble and fall over anything

as soon as he's pushing his leaking cock inside you

he knows he has to say something god damn it he can't hold it back anymore

and that's when it happens

"god, brady, I just kept thinking about you filling me up and getting me pregnant the whole day"

he's so taken back

his eyes, widen. pupils huge

and his whole face and chest get red and splotchy

it takes him 3 seconds to process what you said before he starts hammering into you

"oh, y/n, that's so fucking hot"

"yeah? is that okay? not weird?"

"fuck no. I've been dreaming about you, as my wife, as a mom and it's fucking driving me nuts, baby."

his head in the crook of your neck

he'd move his hands to grab and play with your tits

"I cant wait till these swell up for me too"

"you want a baby, yeah? you want it so bad, huh, baby?"

"I'm the luckiest man in the fucking world, fuck"

"you feel so good, inside, you're so hot for me, for my cum"

sweat dripping from his hair and forehead

eyes are squeezed shut bc

as soon as he makes eye contact with you as you cum

his cock starts twitching inside you

"oh, brady, are you close, baby? you want to cum, inside me? i love it when you fuck me without birth control baby, I love that you can feel how ready my body is for your cum. breed me, breed me, breed me."

he fucking LOSES IT

legs tense

they TWITCH

he fully bottoms out with his legs fully extended all of his weight onto your pelvis

and he sees stars

his eyelids fluttering he's never heard you talk like this usually its the other way around

he groans for a couple of minutes bc it lasts that long

when he comes back down to earth he just stares at you incredulous

"did you like that brady?"

"I'm so dizzy"

dfjdhakljfh he legitimately has to lie down and YOu have to clean him up this time

bc he's so sweaty and lightheaded

new kink unlocked and he might um

attempt to speed up the wedding a lil bit

just to get to the next chapter of your life teehee

[ladylooch]

All About You- Brady Skjei

A/N: Whew, is it ever too early for smut on a Saturday? No? Okay thanks for making me feel better 🤪

I had a couple of requests for Brady Skjei, so this is my gift to both of those lovely anons.

My perception of Brady is very, very soft with a rough side, so I tried to capture that perception here. Thanks for reading!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+ Content, swearing, unsavory things while driving (be safe. Obey most of the laws).

I’m awakened on an off-day Sunday by Brady rolling out of bed. I wince at the sun streaking in through the blinds, annoyed with last night us that decided we were too drunk to do one last step. I toss my arm over my eyes, stretching my back out. I attempt to settle myself deeper into bed as I feel the other side dip from Brady’s return.

“How do you want your coffee?” He asks me. His fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling it from my face so he can place kisses along my soft skin. I sigh at the brief presses, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Cold and in two hours.” I mutter.

“Cold it is.” Another kiss and he’s gone.

I doze in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes until I hear his heavy footsteps coming back down the hall. I open one eye at him, seeing my to-go tumbler filled with delicious liquid gold. I reach for it, confused.

“Am I going somewhere?” 

“Yeah, baby. Get dressed. Comfy clothes only today.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” His smile is mischievous. 

“Brady, it’s too early for games.” I say to him, slowly sitting up. My shoulders slouch forward. I can tell my hair is a mess, my mascara is definitely smudged into raccoon eyes and my breath is hot garbage. And still, he looks at me like he’s never seen anything more beautiful. His brown eyes liquify. Eventually, he comes to, leaning forward to connect our lips. He doesn’t mind garbage breath. 

“No games. I promise.” He says nothing more as he wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me from the bed. 

“This is a game.”

“No, it’s to get you to move that hot ass a little faster.” He sets me in the bathroom then gives my butt a slap. “Hustle, Skjei.”

I try to do as coach asked, alternating between getting ready tasks and small sips of my coffee. Brady comes in at least three more times to check my progress until I shut the door on him.

“You’re making this take longer!” I yell through the door at his protesting.

“I need you done in five minutes.” He responds.

I’m done in three, opening the door to find him laying on the bed, hands crossed over his stomach, staring at the ceiling. He pops up, assessing my outfit of yoga pants and a cropped, peach sweatshirt. My hair is settled into a high ponytail and I’m makeup free.

“Just the way I like you.” He murmurs, walking towards me. His hands slide to my ass, gripping both cheeks with his strong hands. His mouth encloses mine. My fingers card through his long hair, tugging the strands slightly just how he loves. “Oof. Okay, we better go before I change my mind.”

“When do I get to know where we are going?” I ask him as I click my seatbelt into place. 

“When we get there.” He insists, pulling out of our garage. “Enjoy the ride, baby.” He jokes as he puts on my favorite true crime podcast that he literally loathes. I squeal in delight, tucking my legs into a pretzel, gripping my tumbler and listening intently. 

We are on the road, traveling through the morning humidity haze until we come to an obscure building with windows only facing out towards a fenced wooded area. I turn to Brady expectantly. 

“Today is all about you.” He murmurs. “You’ve been so good to me this season. Taking care of every detail with the house renovation, food for us, attending every home game, and making sure I’m always ready to hit the road. I love and appreciate you so much. I couldn’t be successful in this league without you.”

“B-” I pout sweetly at him.

“Nah. Don’t deflect. I mean it, I’m so lucky to have you. So, I planned a whole spa day for you. Just you. I know you really want to get some alone time in to recharge, so it’s all set for you.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, whatever they do here, you’re getting it. You deserve to be pampered. And I would gladly do it, but I think you’ll be getting better service from the professionals.” I laugh, thinking of Brady attempting to paint my nails.

“Let’s be honest. We wouldn’t get passed the massage part.” I grin, leaning across the center console to kiss him. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

“Thank you. Now, get out of this car. I’ll pick you up in five hours.”

Brady wasn’t kidding. He absolutely went all out for me. The spa had it all- tranquil music, cozy waiting areas, and the most luxurious robes I’d ever slipped onto my body. I started with a gentle, Swedish massage, then moved into a moisturizing facial. By the time I got to my manicure and pedicures, I was a puddle of goo in the chair. I sipped on expensive champagne, ate delicious snacks of fruit and assorted cheeses all while enjoying my own company and several podcasts that had built up in my Spotify episodes. By the time I saw my husband again, I felt like a completely different person.

“Holy shit.” I say to him as I collapse into the passenger seat. His hand immediately finds my thigh, rubbing his thumb against the smooth fabric of my pants. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed in my whole life. And that includes our honeymoon.” I rest my head back against the seat, sighing contently. I slowly open my eyes, turning to Brady who gives me that same look from this morning- like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen. “Thank you.” I finish in a whisper. “This season has been a grind.” I admit, not that it’s news. After two shortened seasons, the 82 game season was an adjustment. 

“I know.” He reaches his hand up, cupping my cheek to bring our lips together. He feels like heaven. I can’t help but moan. The air in the car shifts and Brady presses his mouth tighter to mine. I nibble his bottom lip in my mouth, reaching my hand out to skirt across the zipper of his shorts. 

“Only one more thing could make this day perfect.”

“Oh, we aren’t even close to done yet.” He tells me. “That was just phase one.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” I whine, watching as he pulls away to start driving.

“It was the five star head on our 1st date.”

“Brady!” I snap, slapping his thigh. His quad seemingly claps back, making my hand sting. My cheeks tint red at the memory. Normally I’m not someone to put out on the first date, but something about Brady was different from the start. I wanted to.. no I had to, at that sophomore year homecoming party hosted by the hockey team.

“I think about that on a weekly basis.” He admits to me, flipping his turn signal on and heading to the right. “Knew I’d do just about anything to keep that mouth on me.” I drop my head in my hands, laughing. I slide my fingers apart, swiveling my head to look at him.

“What would you do for it right now?” I can feel the breath rush from his chest at the thought. Most of our way home is obscure backroads. Very little traffic is with us or going the opposite direction. It’s risky, but not impossible.

“You start us in this car and I’ll finish us inside of you.”

“Promise?” I ask, skirting my fingers along the growing bulge.

“Yeah, baby.” He moans as I work the button of his shorts apart.

After a little awkward maneuvering, I get him out of his boxer briefs. I work the seatbelt around my shoulders, keeping it across my lap and perching my mouth in front of his thick shaft. I wrap my fingers delicately around it, pumping the velvet skin and watching as a bead appears at his slit. My tongue licks at it, savoring the salty pleasure. Brady’s hand comes between my shoulder blades like he’s bracing himself for what is next. I kiss his tip the leisurely part my lips for pull him into my mouth. The passionate sigh he releases has anticipating tightening my inner core.

“Was it this good?” I ask him before taking him all the way into my mouth. I let him thrust deeper, nudging down my throat. 

“No.” He admits. “It’s better now that you’re my wife.” I smile around him, then grip the base of his shaft with my hand. When my mouth and hand begin to work together, Brady groans deeply. His breathing increases and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. He presses into my back, encouraging me deeper. I do, then revel in the tortured sounds coming from his mouth. I feel the car stop, sensing we are just about to turn left into our neighborhood. “Go faster until the light turns green.” He begs. I comply, working him over quickly- sucking, licking, and squeezing. “Fuuuuuck.” He moans. A car honks behind us. Brady tugs my ponytail for me to stop. “No more until we are home. Damn, I hate saying that, but I won’t make it if you keep going.”

I pop back up, shoulders rolled back like a queen while wiping at my mouth. Brady’s hand moves to between my legs, feeling the heat radiating. He works his fingers in deeper as I spread wider for him. I grip his wrist as he teases me with the tips of his fingers, not able to get the movement he wants through my Lulu’s. 

“Hold on a bit longer, babe.” He says as he turns onto our street.

The garage door is barely open enough for the car to clear. I cringe, expecting Brady to hit it and breathe a sigh of relief when he doesn’t. When the car is in park, he pushes the button again to close. I shove my door open, meeting him on the outside. Our hands grope each other greedily. He works us backwards towards the door. He presses me hard against the wood, wrapping my knee around his waist to grind into my folds.

I reach behind me, twisting the knob so we crash into the mudroom. Brady spins us, then pulls me towards the built in oak, cubbies.

“Come here.” He demands, sitting in the middle of the built ins. I laugh, thinking of how we built these slots for our future children to have a place for their little coats and shoes.

Brady’s shorts drop to his ankles. I work myself to straddle his lap, more than ready for him to be stuffed inside of me. I grip his rigid cock so I can slide down. I glide down him, settling my thighs against his. I moan, accepting his immediate thrusting up into me. I’m so wet, him so rigid, that the feelings are electing profound moans from us both. 

“Good God.” He pants, looking up into my face as I ride him. He shoves my shirt up, pulling my sports bra down to reveal my nipple. I sob out in pleasure as he works the bud with his tongue. I reach up, gripping the metal hooks and adjusting my angle on him. 

“Yes. Oh my god, yes.” I laugh incredulously at how unbelievable it feels. I can already feel my orgasm torturing me for release. “Babe.” I warn him.

“Mmm, you’re so beautiful fucking me like this.” He insists between tugs on my nipple.

“I’m coming.” I tell him. He keeps the exact tempo I need, keeping my nipple flush against his tongue as he wiggles me to my explosive orgasm. “Fu-fuck yes.” I wail, gripping the back of his neck, my fresh manicure digging into his tan skin. “Shit.” I sob to him as my inner muscles clench tightly around him.

“God damn.” He moves his hand to the small of my back, working my hips into him until he fills me. I rut against him to help him finish completely, then collapse against his chest. 

“So our least favorite kid gets this one?” He jokes of the cubbies. 

“That’s mean…” I trail off, hot breath dancing against his t-shirt.

“Fair… maybe the one we just made then.” I smile against his skin. 

“So we are trying now?”

“I mean, you threw your birth control out of the car last night on the way home from dinner?”

“What!” I exclaim, shocked.

“Yeah, you were like… I’m ready Brady!” He mocks me with a high voice. His hand tosses over his shoulder.

“What the…” I trail off, not remembering that. “Stop letting me drink Palomas.”

“I mean, I just came in you unprotected so, I’ve done what I can on that for nine months.”

“Yeah… then I guess we are trying. Thanks drunk me.” I giggle, placing our lips together. Brady gently lifts me. I wince a bit as he slides out, my folds feeling used and a bit raw. 

“Okay?” He asks me, searching my face.

“Way better than okay.” I assure him.

“You ready for phase two?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Good. Trashy TV, couch cuddles, and take out- coming right up.”

It’s finally confirmed, I think to myself as Brady exits the mudroom to get phase 2 prepared. Being married to Brady Skjei is heaven on earth.

[uluvjay]

prompts 22 & 19 from the smut list w brady skjei please!! him and reader are at a team pool party or bbq or something and after readers been purposefully teasing/sitting on his lap, he pulls her inside

19. "Strip. Now."

22. "can you feel what your doing to me?"

Brady Skjei x reader

warnings?; SMUT, teasing, dom! Brady , degrading, p in v, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks!), Quickie sex

You knew what you were doing and you just had to hope that your sweet husband didn't catch onto your game before you could get what you want. What was it that you wanted? To get Brady wound up and make him fuck you like there was no tomorrow, why? well because Brady had decided to take your usual Sunday spent between the sheets to go golfing instead.

You were perched on top of his lap while he sat on one of the chairs in the backyard of his captains home at the team’s annual end of the season barbecue. You sported one of Brady's favorite sundresses and you could tell the low cut around your breasts was starting to get to him as he wouldn't stop moving from underneath you.

"You look beautiful today" he spoke into your ear, placing a kiss behind it.

"Thank you" you thanked him before turning yourself and purposefully putting pressure near his growing bulge.

"wanna know something?" you whispered

"hmm?"

"I'm not wearing any panties" you told him with a smirk as you watched his eyes darken and he let out a small groan.

"are you serious?" he asked with a stern tone

"Why don't you take me inside and find out”

After you said that Brady quickly moved you to stand up and announced to the small group you two were going to get some more food.

But that was far from the truth as he pulled you into one of the guest rooms and inside the bathroom attached after locking both doors.

He pushed you against the door and applied a hand to your throat, his wedding band cold against your hot skin.

“God your such a slut, getting me turned on at my captains pool party” he spoke into your ear

“And your an asshole for getting me turned on and then going golfing for five hours on Sunday” you sassed.

He let out a mean laugh in response and began sliding his hand up under the skirt of your dress, running a finger through your bare folds.

“As much as I’d like to fuck you stupid and punish you, we’re on a time crunch so Strip.now.”

And for once you did as told and slid the dress off, you heard your husband groan at the sight of your bare body. He pulled you close again and smashed his lips against yours.

When you two pulled apart he turned you and bent you over the skin, you heard him pull his swim trunks down and suck in a deep breath as the cold air met his hard cock.

“Can you feel what you do to me?" he questioned you as he ran his hard tip through your folds.

"Brady stop teasing and just fuck me" you whined out

"such a greedy whore" he taunted before sliding himself inside your warm pussy, letting out a groan at the feeling of you hugging him.

you let out your own moan at the feeling of him finally being inside of you, "ohh, Brady" you moaned as he began thrusting his hips at a fast pace.

you watched through the mirror as he threw his head back and landed a hard smack to your ass, "taking me so well, cunt was made for me" he said meeting your eyes in the mirror

"Only you daddy" you moaned out to him, not caring about your volume

"yeah baby that's right, only my cock gets to fuck this greedy pussy" he told you as he began to slow down and fuck you slow and deep.

"Gonna come B, please can i cum? i wanna cum all over your dick" you cried out

"yeah baby go ahead" he told you as he reached a hand down and began to rub your clit making you cry even louder at the added pleasure.

"Brady! fuck i'm cumming" you cried, looking up and making eye contact in the mirror again

he fucked you through your high before he came to his own, "where do you want me?"

"inside, cum inside please" you egged him

and with a deep groan you felt your husbands cum spill deep inside you as you began to slowly fuck yourself onto him to help him through his high.

"we're the worst guests ever" he laughed as you both cleaned yourselves up and began to head back out.

you agreed before unlocking the bedroom door to be met with an amused Jordan Stall, "you two horn dogs really couldn't wait?" he asked with a laugh.

you blushed bright red while Brady shrugged and replied "when the lady needs it, she gets it" causing them to both laugh and you smack him on the arm.

-

[puckmaidens]

“Alright sweetheart. Tell me what your boy does when you two get frisky.” Brady’s voice gets lower, and Ruby’s body presses back onto him.

“Quinny always starts with his hands. He fingers me open and oh god, Brady I’m sensitive.” Brady’s fingers find your lips and your body feels like a detonating bomb waiting for 0:00.

“Good. Sensitive is good babydoll. What else does your boyfriend do?" Quinn whimpers, eyes shut as his cock bounces up and down while his hands are tied to his chest.

"Then his head gets between my thighs, and he makes a terrible joke before going down on me. Something about how earmuffs can't compare to how warm I am."

"I can't help it, I'm obsessed with your thick thighs and how soft you are. I'd happily die between those thighs, Ruby." Quinn meets Brady's gaze before shoving his face into Ruby's warm pussy.

[snuggerudism]

“if i have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

with our fav dilf who isn’t actually a dilf brady skjei🤭

brady’s season had ended, and you two were headed back to minnesota for the off season.

it was his turn to drive, and you were proving to be quite the distraction. you were getting hot in the car, so you opted to take your t-shirt off, reaching back for your bag to grab a tank top.

“honey, what are you doing?” your fiance looks at you with wide eyes, as your stuck in traffic.

“changing. i’m sweating, and my other shirt is too heavy.” there’s a little smirk on your face, because that wasn’t the only thing you were trying to do.

he knew it by the look on your face. “honey, i’m driving."

“i know that,” you batted your eyelashes, trying to get him worked up.

the frustrated groan that escaped his lips told you it was working. “we can stop at a rest stop y’know, and move to the back seat.” you grin.

“if i have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

a laugh escapes your lips, and you shake your head. you know you’re about to get exactly what you wanted.

he moved lanes, eyeing the rest stop.

his words previously held mostly true, and as soon as you stopped for gas and the bathroom, you were walking with a heavy limp. there was a huge smirk on brady’s face as you glared at him.

“i told you."

[nhlmcfilthy]

How boyfriend Brady Skjei wakes you up in the morning on a day off (he’s so boyfriend coded but also you know he’s got moves in bed)

He nuzzles into your back and neck and just slowly starts kissing you until you turn over

With a coffee, cause he’s already been up for a run

He slowly runs his calloused hands up and down your back and kisses you when you shiver

He rips the curtains open cause he’s got a big day off planned. When you hide under the covers he rips them off, scoops you up effortlessly, and drops you in the bathroom. He tells you to be ready in 10 and smacks your ass

He slowly strokes your arm or plays with your hair

He’s gently stroking down your side, each time going lower until he’s grabbing your ass and squeezing and then he’s lightly biting your neck

He’s unconsciously bucking his hips into you, his dick is rock hard. When you turn around he’s still asleep so you just arch into it until he wakes up. The first time this happens, he’s blushing and apologizing and you just grind back into him and you feel his whole body gasp and you both moan he grabs your hips and takes business into his own hands. After you’ve been together a while he knows you like it and you love the anticipation of waiting for him to wake up and take over

He’s fully awake and staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing (but not like, in a creepy way)

He’s awake and grinding into you. He knows you love to be woken up like this and he’s snaking one arm around your stomach, slowly up to your breasts. He’s whispering in your ear to wake up and telling you all the things he wants to do to you. He’s got a filthy mouth and mind

He doesn’t. He’s passed out in bed and looks both like a grown man and a child at the same time. He’s got a slight smile on his face and his hair is perfectly disheveled and the sun in the morning is making the greys shine. He’s so at peace you don’t want to disturb him but you also need to cover him in kisses

He brings you breakfast in bed. He’s got pancakes and bacon and fruit with a warm coffee just how you like it. He’s got a tray and an extra pillow for you to sit up. He puts your favourite episode of your favourite show on the tv and snuggles in next to you

He sings you a little morning song he’s made up cause you hate mornings so much. His voice is terrible and his breath is awful but he’s also breathing right in your ear and it always ends in a bunch of kisses

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

baby brady!!! from 2012 - making him like 18 - which is fucking wild!! he definitely got hotter as he aged 🤭

[shawty-bae]

really wanna know should i write fan fiction on here?

[comphy-and-cozy]

The After Party II

Pairing: Brady Skjei x Reader (f) x Andrei Svechnikov

Summary: A year after your illicit tryst with your current fling and your ex-fling, you meet again. Part two to The After Party.

Word Count: 6.3K

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Light alcohol use/mention, swearing. Threesome (MFM - no MxM), fingering (vaginal + anal - f receiving), oral sex (m + f receiving (vaginal)), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, anal sex (f receiving), double penetration, mild cumplay. **Please do your research before engaging in any sexual activity but especially anal sex. This is fiction and by no means any indication of how one should prepare. :)

Author's Note: happy belated birthday, @smileysvech! I hope your bday gang bang 2.0 makes this year's celebration one to remember. thank you for being my biggest cheerleader and for all of your unwavering support. 😘🖤

nhl masterlist | moodboard

The party is unlike one you’ve ever been to. Like a themed sorority bid night, but with a much higher budget; the decor is elaborate, a sea of blacks and reds and glitter. Candles illuminate the room, making the atmosphere feel dark. Ornate. Indulgent.

Your boyfriend dons a black leather jacket and black jeans that accentuate his thick thighs. His jacket is completely unzipped, revealing more than a tantalizing sliver of his toned, golden muscles; they’re all but bare, the deep cut lines of his abdomen, an opportunity to show off his impressive body. The silver cross branded on his bare sternum is a stark contrast to the crown of thorns perched on his head. Judas.

Your dress contrasts his outfit entirely; lace and ivory wrapped around your body, the corset bodice hugging your figure. It’s demure, but the gold necklace—a 37 sitting prettily on your exposed chest—draws the eye down to your cleavage, a sexy twist to the otherwise sweet, shy, virtuous look. Thick, feathery wings glitter on your back, enhancing the angelic look, complete with a pretty, glittering rhinestone crown—symbolic of a halo. 

A light to his dark, day to his night, heaven to his hell. Andrei’s angel. 

His brand on you runs far deeper than his name etched onto your back at his games, and though your claim on him is invisible, he wears it proudly on his chest, seizing every opportunity to show you off as his girl. It’s been there since before he made you his girlfriend, officially, but it’s only grown since then in the last year that you’ve been together.

Tonight is no exception. Andrei’s hand lingers on your side, a silent message to anyone who would dare to question who you belong to. You’re not typically one for the whole possession thing, but you can’t deny him—not when he looks at you like that.

You mingle, sipping on your cocktail, enjoying the night of frivolity—one of the last before the final push of the season and preparation for playoffs begins. Nykki and Martin make their way to you two, and eventually, the two boys depart in favor of who knows what shenanigans. 

Across the room, talking to two pretty leather-clad demons, is the handsome brunette from your past. His handsome, warm smile is plastered across his face, no doubt letting some pretty words doused in honey drip from his mouth. You ignore the pang of—something—that bubbles in your chest at the sight, not even wanting to spend the time identifying what it is.

As if he can sense it, his eyes glance up and lock with yours for the briefest of moments. A smirk plays at the corner of his lips as he lifts his beer to his mouth, winking so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it. The next moment, he’s back to his flirtatious antics, laughing jovially at the taller of the two girls flanking either side of him.

You return to your conversation with Nykki, though you feel his gaze flitting back to you, burning a hole in your side, tempting you to look his way. Glittering disco balls hang from the ceiling, illuminating the walls with the light from the candles’ flames, and you ignore the urge to glance over at him again.

“Your outfit is so cute,” Nykki’s saying, fingers caressing the feathers on your wings. “And I love your wings!”

With a smile, you thank her. “I was going for a bit of a sexy angel vibe, you know?”

“I’m sure Andrei appreciates that very much,” she replies with a knowing smirk and a gentle nudge of your elbow. You chance a look back to the corner of the room, but the handsome brunette you’ve been making eyes at is gone; you don’t dare to turn your head to look for him, not standing next to Nykki. 

Soon enough, she gets called away, and you’re left alone, uncomfortably vulnerable at a party where you still don’t quite feel like you belong, despite having attended several events as Andrei’s other half. Swirling the ice in your cocktail glass, you’re about to down the rest of your drink so that you can head back to the bar before you search for your boyfriend. As the rim of the glass touches your lips, you feel a looming presence approach your left side.

“Should’ve known you’d copy me,” says a voice that you know all too well. Out of instinct, your head turns and you’re blessed with the sight of Brady, up close and personal. His dark hair, peppered with gray, is messy, styled that way, a strand falling lazily in his face—he looks more like James Dean than an angel, with the suave and confident demeanor. 

“I think I look way more angelic than you,” you say, eyeing the loosely buttoned linen top and expanse of his chest. He looks so effortlessly cool, the high-waisted, wide-legged ivory slacks hanging loosely as he’s leaned against the wall with an air of nonchalant swagger.

He watches you, a smug smile tugging at his lips. The beer bottle rests loosely between two fingers and his thumb. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

Your face grows hot at the callout and your eyes dart away, embarrassed. You’re sure he’s smirking now, feeling the burn from his gaze.

“You do look beautiful, though.”

Brady’s voice is lower as he says it, almost like he’s dropped the confident, playboy facade. You thank him shyly, and in the blink of an eye, the curtain’s back up, the smirk plastered back on his face.

“Where’s your man?” he asks casually. He might as well have been glancing at his nails, but you have the feeling his question is far from innocent.

“Think he’s out playing Spikeball on the patio,” you reply, head craning to try and spot him through the window. He’s exactly where you thought, grinning after slamming the ball into the net, fist bumping Marty in celebration. You smile.

“And he left you alone? Looking like that?”

You shoot Brady a glance, the bold flirtation alerting you to his potential motives. It is his birthday, after all, and you certainly gave him a birthday to remember last year. 

Your eyebrow raises. “What’s it to you?” 

“Well,” he says, slipping a hand into his pocket, “I know if you were my girl, I’d be fucking you over the counter in the bathroom right now, dressed like that.”

Heat floods your body, white hot and scorching straight through your bloodstream at his blunt words. You sip at your drink, desperate for something to alleviate the dryness in your throat. “That’s not very angelic of you to say, Saint Skjei.” 

“Aww, but baby, we both know you’re far from angelic. Don’t we?”

This time, in addition to the warmth on your cheeks, you also feel a deep throb between your legs. His words beckon a flashback of strong hands—4 of them—caressing your body, driving you to the height of pleasure; of the feeling of being so delightfully full. 

“Baby, come outside and—oh, shit, hey, Skjeisy,” Andrei’s deep voice echoes, veering from his path to you to give his teammate a clap on his back. “Birthday brother.”

Brady offers your boyfriend a wide grin and a clink of his bottle against Andrei’s glass. Your cheeks burn as they flank you, tall and looming and so large compared to you. The memory of last year’s celebration lingers, flooding your mind with a foggy heat that suddenly makes it a little bit hard to breathe.

“What’re you up to?” he asks, looking at you with a smile, like he can see the mist clouding your brain. “What’d I miss?”

“Just telling your beautiful girlfriend how fuckable she looks,” Brady says, unabashed. If you weren’t used to his antics by now, you’d be surprised at his boldness.

Andrei pauses for the briefest of moments, registering the implication behind his friend’s words before he’s turning to look at you, a mischievous expression on his face. “She does, doesn’t she?”

By now, your pulse is racing, practically sweating under the heated gaze of both men standing before you. You watch both of their eyes roving over your figure, undoubtedly envisioning filthy things; you wonder if either of them notice the way your pulse beats in your throat.

“Malyshka, tell him what I told you earlier tonight.” Andrei’s command is gentle, light-hearted, but there’s a longing behind them. 

Surging heat goes straight to your cheeks, burning at having to repeat Andrei’s words. You glance at him, and he nods encouragingly. So you swallow, murmuring, “Y-you said you were gonna fuck me how I deserved to be fucked tonight.”

Amusement flickers in Brady’s eyes, along with a blue flame that matches the one glowing inside you. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“Like the only girl lucky enough to fuck me on my birthday,” Andrei finishes for you. A statement of pride; pride in the ownership you have over him, too. 

The fire in Brady’s irises grows, burning bright. You watch an entire cinema of filthy thoughts run through his mind; you’re sure all three of you are thinking the same thing—it’s Brady’s birthday, too. And you are a lucky, lucky girl.

Tension is thick in your little triangle, almost like you’re sizing each other up. Andrei’s eyes dance to yours, and he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, whispering in your ear, “You want him to come home with us, dorogoy?”

Your gaze locks with Brady’s, who couldn’t have heard your boyfriend’s question, but looks like he’s waiting for your answer all the same. Keeping your eyes on his melted chocolate ones, your only reply is a subtle nod, and you feel Andrei’s smile against your cheek.

Twenty minutes later, you step into Andrei’s apartment after the world’s most excruciating Uber ride with the heat of Brady’s leg pressed against yours, his hand drawing slow, teasing circles on the inside of your thigh. Andrei had sat in the passenger seat, making idle conversation with the driver, Brady chiming in regularly, as if he wasn’t driving you into a slow descent into insanity. It was almost enough to make you mad, had you not been spending all of your effort trying not to make a mess on the Uber’s leather seats. 

You watch the way Brady’s eyes flare with heat when he follows the two of you into the kitchen, eyeing the quartz countertop. His eyebrow arches with a glance at Andrei, a silent message sent in the quiet of his apartment. The brunette slinks up beside you, a warm hand caressing your waist, and all at once you remember.

“I’d be fucking you over the counter in the bathroom right now, dressed like that.”

He catches your eye, a wink at you as if he knows you’re remembering his words. “So pretty.”

“So are you,” you whisper shyly. His lips curl into a grin, making him look even more handsome. 

Brady stalks closer to you, all too similar to a predator stalking its prey; the only thing missing is David Attenborough’s dulcet tones, narrating his actions like a wildlife documentary. Despite the itch in the tips of your fingers to touch his skin, to drag your hands through his hair, you back away from him until you’re caught between the kitchen island and his large, looming body. Andrei seems content to watch the scene in front of him play out, standing behind you on the opposite side of the island. 

“Wanna kiss you,” Brady says, voice barely above a whisper as his eyes move to your lips. Your throat bobs in anticipation as you feel the edge of the countertop pressed into your lower back, trapped between Brady’s body and the island. “Can I?”

You nod, but you see Brady’s eyes flick behind you, silently seeking approval from your boyfriend. Andrei must have given it, for the next moment, Brady’s smiling, hand moving to thread through the curls you’d styled earlier that day. His lips brush against yours, feather light, teasing, waiting.

The pause is agonizing, time momentarily standing still as your heart thuds against your chest before Brady finally, finally presses forward to kiss you fully. It’s sweet, far sweeter than the mischievous glint in his eye or the seductive lines he’d traced on your leg in the Uber; for a moment, he really is the angel he’s dressed as instead of the carefully hidden sinner’s persona.

It doesn’t take long for Brady to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands move from your waist to knead at the globes of your ass. His lips curl upward as he swallows your moan, lifting you easily to set you on the countertop. Warm hands slide up the front of your bare thighs, pushing the skirt of your dress up to reveal bare, sensitive skin.

The shift in position allows you to press your body into him, knees settling on either side of his hips as he steps between your legs. Your makeout gradually shifts from sweet and timid to passionate and scorching, whimpers slipping out of your throat as his hands slide the straps of your wings off your shoulders. 

Brady’s lips trail over your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine when his lips find the spot on your neck that makes your toes curl. Your head falls back, allowing him easier access to suck a mark into the tender skin. He places a hand behind your head, supporting your neck, guiding you slowly down onto your back.

The countertop is cool against your bare shoulders, your large, feathery wings no longer digging into your skin. You shiver, not from the temperature of the quartz, but the heat from Brady’s gaze as he tears his lips away from you, standing slowly. His hands blaze fire down your legs, trailing a fingertip lightly down your calf before grasping an ankle in each hand, making a slow show of spreading your legs. 

“Forgot you like to wear these little tiny things you call underwear,” he muses, running a thumb along the sodden lace covering your modesty. 

Andrei, no longer interested in sitting on the sidelines, lets his palm coast over your chest, over your breast, over the bunched up fabric from your skirt, feeling for himself what Brady describes. “You’re soaked already, malyshka.”

Already, just the touch of their hands on your body lights it on fire, and you sigh as Brady’s thumbs rub gentle circles into your calves. Your pulse quickens, nipples instantly hardening when Andrei pushes the top of your corset top down your torso, freeing your breasts. His hand offers a small reprieve from the cool air when it massages one of your breasts, humming approvingly at the way your spine arches into his touch.

“He’s good with his hands, isn’t he?” Brady coos.

You nod, and Andrei smirks at you. Lord knows how many times he’d brought you to a euphoric release with just his hands alone, skilled and strong and wicked in their promise. As if to prove the point, he pinches your peaked nipple between two fingers, earning a yelp from your mouth. But then his hand trails farther, two large fingers digging into the damp lace and tugging it to the side; you gasp quietly at the cool air that hits your most intimate area, the sound melding into more of a moan when you see the heat in Brady’s eyes as he gazes at your folds.

The dynamic is clear: Andrei, revealing you to his friend, presenting you on a platter—or, in this case, his kitchen counter.

“I didn’t get to taste you last time,” Brady comments, his voice low and husky. “Not really.”

Your core clenches at his words, anticipation buzzing through you. Brady smiles, licking his lips. Above you, Andrei nods once, and the brunette needs no more encouragement to sink lower until he’s eye-level with your cunt. He draws a finger through your center, collecting some of the dripping nectar with a click of his tongue.

“This for him,” he asks, jerking his head toward Andrei, who has resumed the gentle knead and massage of your breasts, “or me?”

Another pinch of your nipple has you whimpering. “Wh-who says it can’t be both?”

A low chuckle sounds from Brady’s throat, a smug smile curling up on his handsome face. “Knew you liked being shared, pretty girl, just didn’t know how much.”

He delves into your core like a man starved, long laves of his tongue ending with a flick against your sensitive clit. By instinct, your back arches and your hips raise to meet his mouth, seeking out more of the pleasure that blooms through your body as he presses his face against you. “So sweet, baby.”

Brady is good with his mouth, and he knows it. Expertly, he alters between flat licks of his tongue and sucking gently on your clit, with a precision only someone with experience can manage. It doesn’t take him long to remember what makes you tick, how you gush around his tongue when he slides it inside of you and fucks you with it. 

Just as the energy starts to build deep within you, you’re crying out when he abruptly tears himself away from you. “Brady—”

“Hmm?” he asks, sharing an amused look with Andrei. “What’s wrong?”

“Need—need your mouth.” You can’t help the whine that accompanies your words, the desperation that crawls under your skin.

“Aren’t you forgetting someone?” 

You lick your lips, guiltily glancing back to catch Andrei, an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk painted on his face. 

“He has a nice mouth,” you say, as if to justify your unrestrained desire for the man who isn’t your boyfriend. 

Andrei hums. “So do you, kisa. Can you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Lay your head back for me.”

You do as told, and Andrei tugs you toward him a few inches so your head is leaning off of the countertop. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

Andrei leans down to kiss you, soft and slow, and you sigh into him, the familiarity of his mouth helping to alleviate some of your nerves; the pulse between your legs is all but forgotten under his attention. As he pulls away, he purses his lips, dropping a long, thick wad of saliva into your open mouth. You feel the slow drip of it against your tongue, slipping down your throat as you swallow obediently. 

“Khoroshaya deovochka,” he murmurs as he stands to his full height. Good girl.

The praise makes your nipples tighten as you shiver. You can feel Brady’s hot breath on your inner thigh, can feel the heat from his gaze as he takes in the sight of your open, wet, waiting core. His lips against your skin makes you jolt slightly, a sigh breathed out against Andrei’s tip pressed against your lips.

“God, I missed eating this pretty pussy,” Brady says, his tongue flitting against your entrance, teasing you. You can feel the way your pussy throbs under his attention, like she knows she’s mere moments away from relief.

Andrei chuckles lowly, his eyes no doubt stuck on the brunette working his way between your thighs. Your own throat bobs in anticipation, waiting for Andrei to push his tip past your lips and into your open mouth.

Then, as if following a countdown that only they could hear, Brady’s fingers broach your eager entrance, simultaneous with the gentle push of Andrei’s length to meet your tongue. Swiftly, steadily, they fill you up with a practiced precision that makes your toes curl, the sensation so complete and fulfilling—pun intended. 

Your Russian is patient, feeling the gasp as Brady works another finger into you before his hand slips into your hair, holding your neck steady while he presses his hips forward. He tests his own restraint, inching in and out while your mouth and throat accommodate and adjust to his size, your tongue flatting against the top of him.

Brady’s mouth joins his fingers, sure to catch the slick pooling around your entrance; he probes and teases with the tip of his tongue, taking his time to re-learn what makes your spine arch and the breath catch in your throat. He groans, exhaling lowly against your center, eyes fluttering closed as he savors the taste of you.

“So fucking sweet. Svech, do me a favor and fuck her face a little harder so I can feel her gush on my tongue.”

“Aye aye,” Andrei says with a smirk, a mock salute before his other hand is placed on the other side of your neck, stabilizing your face before he gently picks up the pace of his thrusts. Your eyes water at the intrusion, at the different angle of his cock in your throat, breathing steadily through your nose.

Soon enough, your boyfriend has a consistent rhythm, and any whine you want to let out is blocked by his length lodged in your airway. He hums, smugness dripping from his voice, “Love watching the outline of my cock in your throat, kisa. You take me so well.”

The praise alone makes heat surge to your core, right into Brady’s eager mouth, and he moans, choking out, “That’s it, baby.”

His pace picks up, directly correlating to the flutter in your belly, to Brady’s tongue and fingers working in tandem to drive you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips roll against his face, seeking out that delicious friction that will have you hurtling into euphoria. His head is too far to reach with your arms, so you occupy your hands by taking to your breasts, massaging and tweaking at your nipples while Andrei continues his rough thrusts. Streaks of saliva marr your face, frothy and wet, leaving filthy evidence on his usually pristine kitchen floor.

For a fleeting second, you wonder what this must look like; you, spread wide and waiting on your boyfriend’s counter, getting stuffed at both ends by two handsome, talented men, both eager to drive you to your peak. It’s the image of your body between them that has your release barreling through you, a choked groan sounding out despite the intrusion in your throat. Brady groans, mingled curses and praises slipping out while he works you through the waves of your climax.

Andrei doesn’t let up, not until Brady’s pulling away from the apex of your thighs, the scar on his chin coated with your orgasm. He helps you up, admiring the swell of your lips and the tear tracks on your face before he smiles and presses a wet, musky kiss against your lips. “So pretty. Even prettier when your face is a mess like this.”

“You wanna take her cunt this time? My treat.” Andrei asks with a grin wide enough to reveal his missing tooth.

“I’d be honored,” Brady says with a mock nod of his head, his eyes flicking to yours with a mischievous grin.

“C’mon, malyshka,” Andrei murmurs, lifting you easily in his arms to take you into the bedroom. He deposits you on the bed, positioning you to leave room for Brady to follow and kneel before you. Your eyes draw to the bulge in his pants, the thin fabric doing little to hide his modesty as Andrei helps you to remove what’s left of your costume.

“You want it?” he asks in a teasing tone. 

“You got to taste me,” you say, blinking up at him. “It’s only fair I get to return the favor.”

Andrei sniggers at your quick remark. “So eager, my pretty little slut.”

The name sends heat coursing through your body, radiating particularly between your legs. Brady moves to remove his expensive trousers, and soon, you’re presented with a mouth-watering view of his very impressive, very erect length. Your tongue slips out to lick your lips, eager to feel the weight of him in your mouth.

Of course, Brady can’t resist teasing you, gripping himself loosely as he taps his tip against your cheek. Your mouth opens, impatient, but he doesn’t give you what you want; not yet. Instead, he drags the head across your lips, slow, teasing, agonizing. 

“What a good girl,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself, but then he winks at you. “So obedient.”

Brady’s instruction is simple, just a soft, “tongue out,” before he’s running his tip over it, pressing himself firmly against your tongue. You sigh out at the taste of him, precum already dripping onto your waiting taste buds, earnestly wrapping your lips around his tip as you take him into your mouth.

Beside you, Andrei draws the slightest attention back to himself by divesting himself of his clothes, dropping unceremoniously to the floor. You feel a warm, large hand running along the curve of your ass, giving the flesh a squeeze before his fingers probe lightly at your entrance, testing the slickness he finds there. 

As you work at Brady’s length, jaw opening wider to fit more of him into your mouth, Andrei’s hand slides up just a few inches higher, and all at once the agreement from earlier sinks in.

If Brady was going to fuck your pussy, then that means…

Almost like he’s reading your mind, Andrei chuckles behind you when you gasp with realization. Not long after, the pad of his finger presses gently against the tight bud, teasing and prodding. For a brief moment, you tear yourself away from Brady to crane your head, just in time to see Andrei spitting onto his fingers, coating them with his saliva before bringing his hand back down to your backside. He smirks at you, then winks at Brady as his first finger teases you, your mouth falling open at the feeling—not enough.

But Brady clears his throat, not pleased with the lack of attention, and his hand gently turns your head back to face him. “Back to work, sweet girl.”

Ever eager to serve, you do as you’re told, only this time, you moan around Brady’s length as Andrei presses the tip of his finger past the puckered ring. Slowly, he eases it in, carefully testing the depth with slow, gentle pulses as your body relaxes to the foreign sensation. Your tongue lolls against Brady, whimpering as you do your best to stay focused on him.

Whether it’s to help you or just to show some dominance, you aren’t sure, but soon Brady’s hand is threading through your hair, gripping it into a ponytail at the base of your skull. Slowly, he pushes your head forward, watching the way his length slides between your lips. The beautiful brown of his eyes lock with yours, monitoring your reaction as he gradually increases the pace. His hold is firm, the tug on your hair just hard enough to have you shivering.

Soon enough, he’s fucking your throat, and Andrei’s eased two fingers into you, priming you for what’s to come. Spit, drool, and tears track your face, a frothy mixture pooling at your lips when Brady finally pulls out. He smiles, admiring his handiwork. “Love that throat of yours.”

Andrei hums behind you, his thumb brushing against your clit and nearly making you jump. “Baby, you’re dripping. You like when Brady fucks that pretty mouth?”

You nod, licking your lips with a smile. Brady winks at you. “Love fucking all of your holes, darlin’.”

A fresh wave of heat gushes between your legs, accompanied by a slap to your ass and a Russian curse. His fingers flex inside of you gently working you open. “Get to it, then,” you challenge him.

“Aw, baby, I’m flattered,” he says with another smug smile. “But I think I want to watch that pretty boyfriend of yours fuck your pretty little ass first.”

Your heart flutters at his words, and you turn to look at Andrei as he’s retrieving his bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer. The liquid is cold on your skin, warmed quickly by his hand, finger pressing into you. He eases you open, adding another finger, and then another, until he deems you ready for his more than considerable length. 

“Ready, malyshka?”

You cast a glance at Brady, who smirks at you with darkened eyes, like the sight of you on your hands and knees and three fingers in your ass is nearly sending him over the edge. “Fuck me, Drei.”

When Andrei presses into you, you wince at the stretch as you adjust to the sensation. He sucks in a breath, murmuring a low curse in Russian. Gripping your sides, his hands squeeze tightly as he waits patiently for your approval to keep going.

Brady hums as he greedily drinks in the sight of you. He murmurs low, filthy promises to you, watching intently as Andrei patiently pushes deeper; your mouth falls open as your body adjusts to the stretch, his more-than-adequate width nearly enough to make your eyes cross. 

“Doin’ so good for me,” is Andrei’s gentle purr, groaning as he starts low, shallow thrusts. Your fingers grip into the bedsheets, gasping out. By the time he’s thrusting at a steady pace, tears are already pricking at your eyes from how blissfully sinful it feels, his tip directly nudging into the spot that makes you see stars. 

Andrei fucks you thoroughly, until you’re a mumbling, shaking mess. Your body arches as his large hand traces its way down your spine, coming to rest at the base of your neck; he presses you down into the mattress, just slightly, just enough to make your breathing a bit more labored. He leans forward, too, and you cry out when the action shifts his cock even deeper inside of you. Lips dot gentle kisses against your shoulder blades, accompanied by slow, shallow thrusts as your body trembles beneath him.

“Come,” is all he says; a command and a plea all at once. He doesn’t have to say anything else, only keep his movements steady until you cry out loudly as your release radiates through every bone in your body.

Your Russian is patient, coaxing out the final waves of your orgasm as your thighs tremble from the force of it. Brain foggy, you register the feeling of fingers carding through your hair, soothing you as your vision begins to come back to you. Soon enough, you float back into reality and Andrei smiles, warm enough to feel your heart start to melt at the sight.

“C’mere,” he says, wrapping his arms solidly around you and falling onto his back, bringing you with him. Brady’s figure steps between your legs, large and looming, his eyes glued to where Andrei’s cock is still stuffed deep inside your hole. All at once, the warmth in your heart quickly turns back into desire, and your core flutters.

“You gonna fuck me, too?” Your voice is laced with challenge, a teasing lilt in your tone. 

“You want me to fuck you?” Brady quips, a dark eyebrow raised in amusement. “Want me to fuck this tight little cunt?”

“S’your birthday gift,” you say, and Andrei chest shakes with a chuckle beneath your back. Brady smiles, his eyes dragging to the place in question, spread open and waiting for him.

“Lucky me,” is his hummed response, moving his hand forward to rub a slow circle over your clit with his thumb. You whine, and Andrei pinches your sides in a silent command, holding you steady. He presses a kiss against your shoulder, his weight solid and strong beneath you—holding your body up without any effort, it seems. One of the many, many benefits of having a boyfriend who is a Big Boy.

Brady snaps your attention back to him when he steps closer to the apex of your thighs, fisting his erection as he lines himself up. His eyes, brown and molten, are transfixed on the way the tip of his cock slips into your eager and waiting entrance; he lets out a grunt at the feeling of your tight heat wrapped around him.

You, on the other hand, are completely speechless—you’ve forgotten how to speak entirely, only nonsensical babbling slipping from your mouth. The feeling has you unable to focus on any one thing, consumed by how fucking good it feels to have both of them buried deep.

The two men work in sync, wordless, the same silent telepathy that they used earlier. In. Out. In. Out. Pleasure blossoms between your legs, tingly and warm as it spreads through your core, up your limbs, to the tips of your fingers and toes; you aren’t sure where you end and they begin.

“Kisa,” Andrei’s deep voice rumbles beneath you, murmuring lowly in your ear. “Feel good?”

You open your mouth to reply—yes, God, yes—but all that comes out is a jumbled moan, lilted higher when Brady presses in just that little bit deeper. He laughs, thumbs gripping your thighs tightly as he holds you open. “You kidding, Svech? Your girl loves being stuffed full of dick. These slutty little holes are drooling all over us.”

Brady’s words earn a low flutter—whether in your belly or in another area, you aren’t quite sure—but based on the growl that slips from Andrei, you’re inclined to believe the latter. His hand slinks up your side to massage at your breast, the other branding fingertip-shaped marks into your hip. “That true, dorogoy?”

Because your brain is in the process of being fucked into mush, it’s all you can do to nod, a weak, “Yes” tumbling out of your mouth. His breath is hot against your shoulder, murmurs of Russian curses low in your ear. “How lucky am I, huh? My gorgeous girl, treating me and my friend so good on our birthday.”

The deep purr of praise is like a catalyst to the heat in your veins, setting it ablaze through every cell in your body. Your back arches off of Andrei’s warm torso, and this time you’re sure that you clench tightly around both of them.

“Drei,” you sigh, “please.”

“Please, what?”

“C-come… make me… c-come—”

Brady smiles while his thumb resumes the same steady, circular motion on your clit, like he can’t decide if he’s amused or turned on at your desperate plea. For Andrei, though, it’s no laughing matter; suddenly, his thrusts become even steadier, more sure. He’s determined, hips setting a metronome that contrasts Brady’s pace, speeding up ever so slightly.

When your climax hits, it’s like time stands still: your breath, frozen in your lungs, mouth open in a silent scream, a snapshot taken just as the fire ignites at the place where Andrei and Brady meet inside of you. Your body tenses, spine rigid as your legs begin to shake in Brady’s strong hands, doing little to absorb the ripple effect of your orgasm. 

“Shiiiiit,” the brunette groans, amid the mish mash of Russian and English pouring from Andrei’s mouth as his hips slow to a halt, content to feel the way your body writhes and reacts to him. 

“Think we need to do this more often,” Andrei says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice; you can see it reflected in Brady’s eyes, predatory, devouring the sight of you below him. He doesn’t need to voice his agreement out loud; it’s clear in the way he can barely resist pulling out of you to help you onto shaky feet, then to your knees on the floor.

With a blink, your gaze floats up between Andrei and Brady, standing over you, each fisting their lengths, glistening with you. Your hands dance their way up your body, brushing your hair out of the way before returning to cup your breasts. “Happy birthday, boys.”

Brady’s eyes darken and Andrei allows a low growl at the sight of you, your breasts pressed together like the sexiest canvas they’ll ever see. Both of them work their hand over their dicks, varying in speed but sharing the same intensity—the same kind of unrestrained desperation, stretching themselves for the final sprint to the finish line.

Andrei’s deep groan comes first, ropes of his release splattering across your decolletage, dripping down into the cleavage you offer. A sharp curse from Brady’s mouth precedes his own peak, cum landing on your chin before sliding down and dripping onto your chest. Your boyfriend’s eyes glitter, watching the drips meld together into a mixture of one.

Without a word, Andrei steps toward you, crouching slightly to run his hands across your chest, gathering some of the cum onto his fingers. His eyes lock with yours and, in silent reply to his silent question, your mouth opens obediently, allowing him to press his first and middle past your lips, pressing onto your tongue.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” Brady says, voice a combination of a chuckle and a groan. You suck on his digits, swallowing the salty mixture of them with a flourish.

“Angel,” Andrei muses, making sure you lap every last bit of cum off of his fingers. “She’s an angel.”

———

Bonus mini scene inspired by this video:

That weekend, you’re scrolling on social media when the Canes pregame video pops up. It autoplays, and your eye immediately catches the salt and pepper hair, your heart fluttering a little bit at the sight. Then Andrei’s on the screen, and you’re smiling at seeing him feeling so confident and in his element—he’s where he belongs. 

But then you hear Brady say, “What a night!” followed by a loud laugh from Andrei, and your heart stops. They wouldn’t…

It takes another few replays to hear that Brady also says, “It’s a pleasure.”

When Andrei gets home later that night, high from a shutout win and clinching an official playoff spot, his wide smile fades slightly at the sight of you on the bed with your arms folded over your chest. 

“Wh–?”

“Tell me what you whispered to Brady before the game,” you say, a glint in your eye. 

Your boyfriend pauses, reflecting, then smirks when the memory comes back to him. His eyes flick to yours and his eyebrow raises. “You really wanna know?”

A pointed look is your only reply. 

“I told him you still can’t walk today.”

SIMILAR CONTENT:

Sundress Season* Glittery* A Night in Paris*

[smileysvech]

What are some of your favorite hockey boy fics? 🥰

this is not an exhaustive list by any means, so you can check my fic rec tags here and here, but these are some of my favorites (most of these include smut so please respect authors’ warnings if you’re not 18+)

andrei svechnikov

fake numbers and date numbers by @matsbarzal

glittery by @comphy-and-cozy

the love countdown series by @behoright

meet me at midnight by @senditcolton

the mystery of love by @comphy-and-cozy

playing pretend by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

sundress season (and the sequel) by @comphy-and-cozy

when it gets crisp in the fall (and these follow up fics in the same universe: x x) by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

andrei svechnikov/brady skjei

the after party and the after party II by @comphy-and-cozy

andrei svechnikov/dylan coghlan

919 temptations by @hoesforthecanes

brady skjei

adore you by @comphy-and-cozy

do I really have to tell you? by @senditcolton

midnight rain by @comphy-and-cozy

mat barzal

more than a vancouver sunset by @zuucc

praising you by @eberles

we've come so far baby by @mendeshoney

mat barzal/tyson jost

summer nights by @hookingminor

jt compher

our love was made for the movies by @jostystyles

slow mornings by @comphy-and-cozy

something to dream about by @comphy-and-cozy

mikko rantanen

bad for business by @comphy-and-cozy

you’re the reason I come home by @senditcolton

tyson jost

baby, you make me crazy series by @hookingminor

how I look on you by @hookingminor

like this series by @matbaerzal

longshot by @flashyfucker

open your eyes by @matbaerzal

matt martin

matt martin x sugar baby!reader blurb by @comphy-and-cozy

we're a bad idea by @senditcolton

[sportswriters]

welcome to sportswriters!

this account has two authors: ella, 25, she/her & namu, 24, she/her. we're from brazil. two besties writing for fun since high school.

we're going to focus on writing football, ice hockey (nhl) and baseball (mlb) scenarios. feel free to request some ideas!

important: we don't write heavy topics such as death, tragedy, violence or bdsm. we also don't write ships between players.

here's the list of players we write for:

football

mason mount

rúben dias

phil foden

jude bellingham

aymeric laporte

joão félix

pablo gavi (no smut)

pedri gonzalez

aaron ramsdale (no smut)

kepa arrizabalaga

kai havertz

antoine griezmann

dominik szoboszlai

trent alexander-arnold

heungmin son

nhl

jeremy swayman

andrei svechnikov

jack drury

brady skjei (no smut)

jesperi kotkaniemi

anthony beauvillier

mlb (send requests!)

matt chapman

masterlist (soon!) | football fic recs | nhl fic recs

[behoright]

blog updates + masterlist

ㅤᘒ ⋆ ࣪. 삶 ⋆ 🦷ㅤᘒ ⋆ ࣪. 삶 ⋆ 🦷ㅤᘒ ⋆ ࣪. 삶 ⋆ 🦷ㅤᘒ ⋆ ࣪. 삶 ⋆ 🦷

masterlist

᭥ ᭄ °. ★ +

back from unplanned (and uncommunicated - sorry guys!) hiatus. i'm going to spend some time cleaning everything up and catching up on tumblr, and then back to posting! i will probably make another update post to get yall excited about upcoming fics.

i cannot thank u enough for your love n support. coming back to a full inbox made my heart explode. i love yall. stay tuned my lovelies. as always, my inbox is opennnnn.

 ઈઉ     ݁     🖇     𝟿𝟷       ִֶָ      ✰ ઈઉ     ݁     🖇     𝟿𝟷       ִֶָ      ✰

[ladylooch]

Hi love! So I'm back on my Brady Skjei train again and I wanted to ask, could you write a Brady Skjei smut where the reader is feeling like a tease and decides to tie him up and not let him touch her, wich drives him crazy.

I'm deeply sorry for this filthy thought but I just can't help myself😭

A/N: 😳 Welp. We got a little unhinged again.. Enjoy! Hahaha! Thank you for being so patient! I know this took a little longer than usual 😘

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content, light bondage, swearing.

Everything is soft.

The tie in your hands. Brady’s skin against your fingers. The way your lips move against the skin of his shoulder.

“You trust me?” You ask against his ear, looping the tie through one final time. His wrists are crossed behind the wood, dining room chair you and your friend had found at an estate sale down in Holly Springs right after you moved with Brady to North Carolina. You never imagined it being used like this.

“Always.” He answers, voice low, coating your skin with each touch of his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

You reach out, running your fingers along his large arms, biceps and triceps taunt with the position he is in. You let the last tie of Brady’s come up to hide his brown eyes from the world. You tie it snug enough that it won’t come off, but tight enough that it will slide down with only a pull from one finger. Brady sighs when he hears you move from behind him. You run your fingers along the definition of his shoulder, dipping to glide along his collar bone. Goosebumps protrude from his skin. You follow them down his chest to his abdomen, soaking them in there before disappearing beneath the tent in his pants.

The heels of your red pumps tap the wood floor as you straddle him. They’re high, needing the extra inches to help propel you over Brady’s large legs when things really get started. Your thighs settle on his. He tilts his head back, inhaling a deep breath to catch the flowery scent of your perfume.

“I love that scent on you.” He says. You know this because you save it for special occasions like this. Like when your fiancé makes it to the Eastern Conference Finals for the first time in his career. He should be celebrated. And worshiped.

“Do you?” You ask him against his lips, enjoying how he nibbles back at you immediately. You slide your tongue into his mouth, swirling it about to taste every last bit of him. Your hips press further into his erection, causing him to hum into your mouth. 

“Yeah. Smells better mixed with your cum.” A coy grin stretches your mouth wider, and you nip at his lip, pulling it away just to watch it snap back into place against his bottom teeth. “Filthy.”

“Haven’t even started.” You tell him, moving one leg between his so you can roll your folds against his thigh. You get slick from the effort, giving in to the desire to ride him a few more times before pushing off him completely.

“Come back. Wanna see where that leads to.” He whines, struggling a bit against the ties at his back. His nostrils are flaring and a wet spot is appearing on his boxer briefs. 

You don’t respond. Just slowly lower yourself to the floor. You push his knees further apart to accept your full body between them. Then, you ghost your fingers along his hard erection. He startles a bit, then grunts in frustration when you purposefully stroke his abdomen next.

“Don’t forget, it’s your turn to be tied up next time.” It’s a warning. A reminder of what will happen to you if you prolong him much longer.

“I haven’t.”

“Pay back is a bitch, baby.”

You laugh as you pull the band of his underwear away. His cock springs free. You sigh heavenly at the visual, wrapping the warm, hard skin in your hand and giving him a pump. He pulses as you coast the wet tip along the seam of your lips. You inhale the smell of him, savoring the familiar scent of his clean skin. Your mouth opens, sliding down him leisurely as he squirms beneath you. He tries to pump his hips up and you press down on his large thighs, removing your mouth again.

“B, you know the rules.” You scold lightly, a sick smirk on your face at how needy he is becoming in your control.

“I hate how much you’re talking. Your mouth should be full.”

You laugh, appreciating the banter as you position him by your mouth again. You press kisses all along his shaft, feeling the way he hardens further at each one of your presses. It seems almost painful for him when you put him back in your mouth.

“Yes, baby. Fuck.” He moans deep in his throat. “Uh.” He sputters shakily as you take him all the way back, touching places he never has before. You moan around him, using the vibrations to tease him as he diligently presses his thighs deeper into the wood chair beneath him. You brace yourself on his thighs, standing tall on your knees as you begin to suck him harder. Your hand comes up, working in perfect sync with your mouth as you pull beads of pre-cum out with each stroke. His head is knocked back towards the ceiling, mouth wide open as his noisy pleasure fills the room. “Too close. Too close.” Brady sputters suddenly. You slowly pull yourself off of him, getting a gurgling grunt from the blindfolded man beneath you.

You’re fine with that being over. At this point, you’re so wet and desperate for Brady to be stuffed inside, you don’t care much about teasing him anymore. You work your way back to straddling his hips, brushing him through your folds before gently sinking him into your entrance. You close your eyes, wanting only to feel it, just like Brady. He stretches you, but it’s welcomed. You control the depth, allowing him in a few inches before easing back off. You do this twice more, before you take him fully. Your bare thighs slap harshly together with your next bounce on him.

“Fuck… yes….” Brady pants, chest heaving and brushing against your perky nipples as you begin to ride him steadily. He struggles against the ties as he always does when it’s his turn. He wants to hold you, guide your hips with every thrust, indulge in the way your hips rolls perfectly while you fuck him.

You place your hands on his shoulders for leverage. The sound of the chair scraping against the floor as you ride him fills the room along with both your moans.

“God, I bet you look so good right now. Wet lips, tits bouncing, open mouth while you make me fuck you deep.”

“You wanna see?” You ask him. You’re feeling generous after all.

“Yeah.”

You move the blindfold off and your gazes meet as you feel your orgasm coiling tighter.

“Oh, you’re already so close.” His eyes drink your face in, lip smashed between his teeth. He looks so hot. So sexy and passionate as you moans with every thrust. “Good job, baby. Fuck me just like that.” He begs. 

Usually at this time, you untie him so he can pound forcefully into you, but tonight, you want to prolog this another few moments. You want to see what happens when you keep him tied up, riding him the whole time. So you do.

He’s so polite he still helps.

“Stand slightly.” His thighs thrust up into you as much as they can. It’s just enough to have you shuttering above him, legs shaking while trying to maintain the position. “Cum for me, baby. Just like you want to.” He coos, eyes on your face. You stare back at him, loving the eye contact with the absence of his hands on you. Your hands slap his shoulders, fingernails gripping tightly to hold you steady as your orgasm explodes from far down in your core. You sit down on him, forcing your hips to roll and rut with him deep inside of you to finish. 

Brady cums too, tip seeping with each forceful pulse from within your wet, contracting walls.

You rest your forehead sluggishly on his shoulder, both of you panting heavily. A thin sheen of sweat clings to you, making your thigh stick to Brady’s. He turns his face into your cheek, puckering his lips against your red flesh.

“Untie me so I can hold you.” Without getting up, you reach down to his wrists, pulling the ties until they give. His hands are on your back instantly, one low to hold your hips flush against his, the other at your neck, massaging your muscles as your head stays against him.

His lips continue to press soft kisses against your face. Finally, you turn, capturing the last one in a tender, almost painful, smooch. Your hand comes to his face, the stubble there scratching at your smooth palm. His fingers move into your hair, holding your head as his tongue glides against yours.

“One more time? So I can touch you everywhere?” He whispers against your lips. 

You smile beneath his kiss, letting him pick you up.

He kicks off his pants and underwear, leaving them and the ties behind as tomorrow mornings problem.

[uluvjay]

Request week M.List

*indicates smut •indicates angst

Trevor Zegras

Trevor dating a business owner

Trevor and a Hughes sister original

Trevor and a Hughes sister remake•

Confessing feelings

Comparing hand sizes

Jack Hughes

Cuddles

Hammock*

Don’t be such a baby

Andrei Svechnikov

Who you belong to*

Injuries

Brady Skjei

You’re not okay

Pool party*

Mark Estapa

I’d give you a kiss but I can’t reach

You’re not going out dressed like that

Giving you his jacket

I can’t get you out of my head

Don’t tempt me*

Ethan Edwards

I’ve never done this before*

Mackie Samoskevich

I think I deserve a kiss

Nolan Moyle

Little spoon

Luke Hughes

Phone sex*

-> part two*

Childhood friends to lovers

You’re not going out dressed like that*

It doesn’t matter what other people think

My turn to be little spoon

Matthew Knies

I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to forget that guys name*

Matthew Tkachuk

Comparing hand sizes

Auston Matthews

Your clearly in pain

You wanna have sex with me?*

Nico Hischier

What? Does that feel good?*

Drunken hugs and kisses

I can see it hurts, now show me

Nico X eldest Hughes sister

Vince Dunn

Bathtub sex*

Window sex*

Jamie Drysdale

Nasty girl Part one*

Nasty girl part two*

Mason McTavish

Don’t come any closer•

Nasty girl part one*

Nasty girl part two*