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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 7 months ago

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BARK! BITE! BLEED! (INTERLUDE) - FWB!Frankie Morales x AFAB!Reader

summary: the sting of biting one’s tongue is a lesser of two evils compared to the sting of rejection.

a note from Lucy: Not really a full part but still important to the storyline. Just a little bit of a deeper look into the reader and Frankie’s relationship, their characters and their ideas of each other.

playlist | moodboard

wc: 3046

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! no use of y/n, obsessive behaviour, frankie is obsessed and it is very unhealthy, toxic relationships, age gap (reader is 21, Frankie is 27) - though not mentioned in this part, graphic smut, oral (f receiving), face sitting, p in v sex, creampie, biting, softdom!frankie, scratching, references to suicide, references to racial discrimination and othering in American school systems.

“Is it your smile I enjoy…or the parts of me still stuck in your teeth?”

Some days Frankie liked to pretend you were a map. Easy to read. The landmarks recognisable on top of your skin. The world growing with you, shifting over bone. Breathing with life. The valley of your breasts. The bridge of your hips. The high street that was your spine. At the top of the high street, just over the fleshy part at the nape of your neck, was a library. It was locked. Always. Sometimes he would look through the window to see if anyone was still there. Peer in through grimy glass to expect someone thumbing through pages of a book, folding the corners to mark a quote, or a passage that held particular resonance. Alas, they were plastered with dated newspapers and rotting boards nailed to the over closed shutters. So he wandered back down, past the railway tracks of one rib, the empty children’s playground of another. The church on your sternum. The graveyard had no flowers by headstones. Half were smothered by a thick blanket of browning moss. Others were merely so caked in grime and crumbling that names were illegible. And passed over the bridge to the empty bandstand of your navel. Where music would play if someone gave the time of day. Behind him were footprints of marks he left with his teeth. A need to show himself he had been here. I have been here.

Behind the bandstand, deeper in, on a small mound of a hill, lay a wooden gate. And beyond the gate was an orchard fenced off from the rest. Here, Frankie would indulge his selfish tongue in the sweet fruit. Between two trunks of apple trees. Bite after ripened bite. The juice was full with a sweet flavour and sticky as it dribbled down his chin. Stained his fingers with their residue when he wiped his mouth. But there was a sharp aftertaste. And before he knew it the apple rotted in his hand. Dropped to the dew dappled grass and damp dirt.

It was always quiet in that town he roamed. No train on the tracks to go clickety-clack. No child on the swings giggling ‘higher dad!’. No busker at the bandstand humming the hymn of god loving us back. Just him. Eerie and silent with only his footsteps to accompany the low murmur of the tree conversing with the blackbird. And the gutters slugged with stagnant rain. He avoided pavement cracks. His mother would save her back. He rounded ladders. It cut himself seven years of slack. Nothing bad would come of it either way. That map was his mind's creation. So he kissed you hard enough to invert you. Fucked you hard enough to invert you. Maybe then he would see what was inside. What wallowed under your skin and festered hot in the gaps between? Each atom of each cell was a stone he wished to turn over. Because there must be something. You had your walls for a reason. Maybe it was written on you like a book? Carved into flesh, a signature he could run a finger over after reading. Behind the backs of your lids, under the tips of your nails. The crook of a knee or elbow. Or he’d trace the freckles on your skin like constellations. Using them like sailors in the archaic times to pass through uncharted waters. Scylla would come and feast on his weathered ship soon enough. Drag him to Davy Jones’s locker. No vessel of good intent crossed your choppy waters before.

You both agreed that you were not a mother. A wife. A bride. Or anything else he might want you to be other than human. You were happy with your independence. You didn't want to throw anything away just yet. Not at all. Not for a long, long while. You set ground rules. Had a straightforward argument that you bought up without the need for him to ask what this consisted off.

“We tell each other when we have had sex with someone else.” Seemed easy enough to Frankie. “And wear protection with them too.” Another valid request. “But most of all, no feelings. I don’t care who you sleep with, or what you do with them, and if you meet someone who you really hit it off with then we call it quits. But if you start to feel even a shred of something more, Frankie, that's it. We call it.”

That had poor Francisco swallowing back a lump in his throat before it could choke the reply back down him. His stomach felt hot, and burned all of a sudden as he tried to digest what you had said. A knot consisting of a livewire thrummed in his gut and made his skin flush. And it irked him to no end.

Frankie remembered his years as an outsider. In a school where the white outnumbered the other. A child of immigrants, lucky enough to have skin that passed. He heard stories of a boy who sat two rows down from him in his American history class. A boy with dark skin and textured hair. Who was teased about his colour. Who threw himself from a bridge because every time he looked down at his hands, darker than those of other students, he felt like he didn’t belong. Frankie felt it too. He could memorise the names of presidents. He could recite that the capital of Texas was Austin. That the United States of America were at war with the United Kingdom from the twelfth of April 1861 to the thirteenth of May1865. But no matter how much of a textbook he would splurge out from between his lips he was always from the outside looking in. It made him wonder in silence to his pillow if he would ever belong. If any fact, or word, or story would make him fit in. He’d have even the gaps between two. He’d squeeze into it, no matter how small, and make it his to belong in. He thought the army would be his ticket in. That if he served a country he would earn his place in it. A foolish thought. For even now, looking at you, he felt the chill from the other side of the window pane. The side in the cold.

While you lay draped in bed, strewn out like the sheets, smoking a cigarette in languid drags, he thought to himself how little he truly knew. Yes he knew about America. But not a sentence about you. Your past. Yes, he knew you did your laundry on Sundays. You came home from the bar you worked in at 1:00. But nothing of note. Nothing important. Part of him liked it. Mystery left room for the mind to entertain. Often fantasy was far more intriguing than reality and it made you seem all the more interesting. A comfort to know he wasn't wasting his time on no one; But rather devoting it to someone. However, the other part— the part of him that watched smoke serpentine from the glowing end of your cigarette— hated it. The way it felt in his gut. Anxiety. He felt it before. But never in this situation. In combat he knew he didn't have time for it. It didn't ululate or linger. It was there, then he swallowed, and it wasn't. Now? Well…he had these moments between. Moments where you would light a cigarette, inhale, exhale. And he would watch as your chest rose, then fell in a pattern enough to hypnotise him. Something so simple as your breathing engaged him. Frankie wondered what it would be like; to live under your skin and have the steady up and down lull him to sleep at night. A rocking back and forth. To and fro. Up and down. Belonging. Moments where he would trace the line of your spine with his eyes. Too scared to touch what wasn’t his until he would bite his tongue and press a single finger to the dip and back down its soft curve. Earlier in the evening, when the sky started to stain tangerine, you had been canting your hips into his, dragging up and down on his length and singing his praises in a breathy chorus. Lost on the feeling of the stretch. The welcome invasion. Then you did the same with his face. Clit brushing zealously over the hooked, aquiline bridge of his nose. Your slick devoured by his wanting mouth. Frankie was the river that ran and unravelled in valleys to feed into your ocean. He hated being in the dark. Only when he fucked you did he have a chance at turning on a light.

“Read it.” He mumbled, nodding to the book in your hands, and rolling over between your thighs to part them. A classic of some century long past. One he never cared much for. But he wanted something. Needed something to tell you to do. Or just something to say. Because the silence was torture for his lonely mind.

You were halfway through stubbing your cigarette into the chipped ceramic dish on your bedside table when he spoke. “What?” You asked, tilting your head in curiosity, eyes searching his. As if the answer lay in their storm-brewing shade of chestnut. Although in the dark, under nothing but halogen street lamp glow, they looked a lot more like black. A nothingness that promised the existence of something.

“I said,” Frankie mumbled again, his voice firm, low and with a gravely finish to it that was just like him. Rough around the edges. Hard to part with. “Read it.” and then, Out loud.”

The words were smudged into the skin of your thigh as he trailed his lips over the inside of the right. His hands skimmed down the outside and squeezed plush flesh. Plump and smooth. Small divots of silver stretch marks on your flesh like ink carved into flesh. Hand painted by some deity in the sky that paid no mind to him now. When he traced his mouth higher he stuck out his tongue. You were wet and hot with his breath and his spit, his come too, still sticky between your thighs at the apex of them. Your very centre. Where his prominent, aquiline nose traced through your folds before his tongue flicked your clit once. “Frankie…” you whined, toes curling. Because you were so sensitive. So worn and stretched and aching. He hushed you, taking liberty over the time where he called the shots. When he was able to bend you to his will and have your head spinning dizzy instead. He didn't feel so motion sick when that was the case.

“Shhh…” he soothed, and pressed the flat of his tongue to your aching sex where heat melted and spread out through your limbs, seeping into muscle and unwinding tension. “Just read…”

Silence. And he thought he may have taken it too far. Finally sent you over some indiscernible edge that appeared too quickly for him to press the brakes. But then your honeyed voice filled his ears;

“Orpheus wished and prayed, in vain, to cross the Styx again, but the ferryman fended him off. Still, for seven days, he sat there by the shore, neglecting himself and not taking nourishment. Sorrow, troubled thought, and tears were his food.” You started, eyes blurring under the hazy weight of pleasure. His tongue delved a little deeper, circled your clit, flicking over the hood of it once, twice, thrice in quick laps. The tip of it pressed to a point and rolled it in careful, full circles. Your nerves thrummed like livewires, humming the same way telephone lines would in a hot summer rainstorm. Where heat lightning flashed ahead.

“Pretty pussy all used and fuckin’ soaked still.” He murmured into you slick, now in a generous shine across his chin. You whined, keening your hips up so his nose pressed to your mound and the smattering of curls there. He lay belly flat to the mattress, hips rutting slowly in tandem with the torturous, bold, and thick laps of your cunt. “C’mon, baby. Léeme a mí. Keep going.”

You read on, lips quivering, words dying by the dragging slice of a moan, a whimper, or simpering whine. Toes curling as his tongue lapped at you. “Three times the sun had ended the year, in watery Pisces, and Orpheus had abstained from the love of women, either because things ended badly for him, or because he had sworn to do so. Yet, many felt a desire to be joined with the poet, and many grieved at rejection.”

His mouth made a sinful soaking sound, wet and generous and full of your taste. “Que cosa mas linda.” He crooned into your cunt, lips smearing into your drenched sex while you stumbled over the words on your page. “Coño— tan mojado, bebita.” You whimpered again, a pathetic sound, fingers daring to curl into the thick head of brown hair at the crown of his head and press him deeper— because, god, you had never wanted something so carnally in your life. “Son deliciosas.” The glint of wanting in his eyes was like the blade of a knife catching the light. A flash of warning before it sliced tender flesh and let blood bleed red. You watched in quivering liquid smooth heat while he tasted, and favoured, and lusted over the seam between your thighs. It was such a pretty sight. Such a wonderful feeling of freedom that sat aching and twisting in your belly. The feeling of impending relief— release. A little death.

“I cant–” You gasped, legs jolting before the malleable, soft and round swell of your thighs clamped over his ears. Your core bearing down on the plane of his nose at your clit and his tongue that dipped in and out of your slick, drooling hole. Large hands, rough to touch, unforgiving and telling, pressed them back to the mattress again. He had you spread completely, open and melting into a pathetic resolve of messy sounds. He dragged his nose through your folds once more, before his lips enclosed around your bud and drew it between them in a sharp suck that had you seeing stars. Ovid’s Metamorphosis, Orpheus, they were put back between the pages of a closed book. Shimmering away into mere dust of thought. A coiling pressure replaced them. One of pleasure, and a slight pain of overstimulation. Hot like a wire in a ready-to-blow fuse. “Fuck– Frankie…” You yelped, and he replied with nothing more than a guttural groan into your centre. A lewd slurp of the slit of your cunt as if it was his last meal. Like it was divine to him. Tasted sweeter than a slice of heaven. Here he could blur into you and forget he was separate. Ignore that you ended somewhere and he started some place after. No gap between could exist with his face pressed into your pussy. Gushing all over his lips and tongue and cheeks just for him. Drenching his face in the thick shine of your slick.

And then there was the slow release of the ache; The coiling heat blooming in your lower belly. Growing with each circle of his tongue over your swollen clit. Your legs twitched from a moment, breathing heavily and staggered as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut. Your vision fizzled behind your eyelids for a moment, making opening your eyes to look down at him retreating would probably have you passing out.

“Bien hecho, chica.” he mumbled as he smeared his lips over your goose pimpled skin, hair stood on end from the tone of his crooning voice, the rough scrape of his moustache over flesh. “Good girl.”

He climbed back up the bed to lie next to you, and the two of you lay still for a while. Your mind felt dormant under the heavy guise of something dragging, your eyelids like paperweights, stinging with the need to just sleep.

“Been meaning to ask you something…” Frankie spoke up, smoothing a hand over your stomach atop the bedsheets you had slipped back under.

“Mhm?’ You asked in a voice that was hazed by the want to sleep, eyes still closed, but awake.

“I’ve got this…thing.” He started, and he watched art you opened one eye to peer at him sceptically, lips pursed ever so slightly. “And all my mates have dates because they're either married, or engaged, or have been planning to get round to proposing…” You scoffed before he had the chance to pick up the trail off of his own sentence. He couldn’t quite meet the scrutinising eyes of yours. The ones that narrowed a fraction as they watched him smooth over the top of your sheets, over a thread that had snagged there when being washed in the machine.

“What thing are you bateing me into going to, Morales?”

“Just a military thing.” He shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but the way his thick fingers found and pulled at the same stray thread of your duvet cover said otherwise. “A formal.” There was a hint of fear settling like silt at the bottom of a river in his eyes. A flicker. If that. Maybe you could call it a glimmer from afar. Whatever you might call it, it was better left unsaid. You sighed to save him the embarrassment, rolling onto your side and propping your head up with your arm.

“And there isn’t a single soul on this planet that you know of who can accompany you other than me, hm?”

“Please?” He practically begged, rolling on top of you to speak to the skin of your hot neck, skin still slightly salty from the sweat that had previously lain there. “Just as a friend. Nothing more, I promise you.” It would would be nice to have someone there he wished to add, but but his tongue to hold it back. He hated the idea of seeming soppy. Either way, the sting of biting one’s tongue is a lesser of two evils compared to the sting of rejection.

“I suppose I better find a dress then.”

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 8 months ago

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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

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*

#🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤#birthday boys #my fav ever ever #svechy baby #baby skjei

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 10 months ago

Text

all my brady fics are linked below with a word count and little summary. i’ll add to the list as fics get written. hope you all enjoy 🫶🏻

* indicates smut

keep sweet and obey* (3.4k)

you decide to wear a svechnikov jersey to the canes game, knowing it will rile brady up. you’re not disappointed by his reaction

hurt my feelings* (9.9k)

brady dumped you without a second glance, but that doesn’t stop you from answering his text

red (brady’s version)* (10.5k)

when you’re on your period, brady just wants to make you feel good

knight brady au blurb

brady singing to the baby

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 10 months ago

Note

could you please do D28 and D43 for jeremy swayman where you’re riding him and he’s vocal about liking how you scratch him up 🥵🤤

god I love sway so so so so much and need with such passion! thank you for the request and keep it coming

wc: 1k

cw: dirty talk, piv, somewhat rough sex; SMUT 18+

just keep this in mind while you read this 🤤🤤

28. “I want you to leave marks.” & 43. “Don’t be gentle.”

gif by @snoopyfl

welcome home, baby

“Fuck, Jer,” you moaned loudly when you sank down on his hard cock. He groaned just as loudly, finally feeling your soaking wet pussy squeeze around him after days of being gone.

“So good, so wet for me,” Jeremy whispered and latched his lips onto your neck when your head fell back with another moan when he was buried to the hilt. His lips sucked and kissed your skin, bringing you more pleasure as you got used to his cock stretching you. His teeth scraped your neck, eventually biting you ever so softly, but enough to make you yelp and thrust your hips.

Jeremy chuckled lightly and kissed his way back up to your lips. His hands gripped your hips more tightly, urging you to start moving �� and you did. Slowly at first, easing him deeper into you. “Fuck,” you moaned, as your nails scratched along his shoulders for stability. Your eyes rolled back as the tip of his cock pressed further than you thought possible. “You’re so deep.”

"Yeah," he panted in agreement, "You’re little pussy is taking me so well."

You started grinding into him faster, lifting your hips slightly, loving the feeling of him slipping back into you so deeply. Jeremy’s hand lifted from your hip and cradled the side of your head when you dropped your forehead against his. “Jer.” His name was just a whisper which he swallowed with a passionate kiss as you kept grinding against him. His thumb swiped your lips aggressively before pushing through them into your mouth. With an appreciative groan, your lips closed around it and sucked, just like you had been sucking on his cock just a few minutes ago.

“Good girl.” His gentleness suddenly vanished with hard slap against your ass. Jeremy moved from the sitting position, keeping you on top of him, so that his back lay flat against the couch cushions. His hands tightly back on your hips helped your movements, up and down, rocking back and forth on his cock, quicker and quicker.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you chanted, "it's s-so good, Jer, it feels so good—"

He bit his lip as he watched you, and you loved how it felt to have those hazel eyes looking up and down your body as you moved. Your hands supported themself on his chest and with every thrust your nails scratched further and deeper into his skin. But when you realized how much you were actually hurting him, you switched to holing onto the couches arm rest. “Don’t.” Jeremy brought your hands back to his chest. “I want you to leave marks.”

So your freshly manicured nails, which Jeremy had paid for, kept digging into his skin, leaving marks. Jeremy bent his knees and without any warning started thrusting into you relentlessly. His hands roamed your body, with one hand ending up in your hair, holding on to a bunch while he kept up his hard thrust into you. You shuddered all over as the curve of his cock rubbed against your sensitive spot aggressively and you broke down against him with a sob.

“Yes! More. Don’t be gentle.” You arched your back and his your face in the crock of his neck, letting the pleasure wash over you as you crept closer to your orgasm.

“So fucking tight,” Jeremy groaned, grunting more filthy words into your ear. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl for me, baby.”

His strong arm swung around your hips holding them in place as his thrusts somehow became faster. Moving faster, you felt the pressure building inside you, pulsing and swelling. But after a few more ruthless thrusts, he stopped and pulled your head up by your hair to meet his lips for a kiss. It was a hungry, dominating kiss, one that made you whine as he tasted all over your tongue and mouth. So close to your orgasm, you started desperately grinding your hips again and you kissed and kissed.

Eventually his hand moved out of your hair and you felt it gently curl around your neck. He didn't let go of your neck, as you kept kissing, but eventually he tightened his grip just enough to make you choke out a raspy moan against his lips, which you felt smirk a moment later.

He pushed you upright, never stopping your rocking movements, and watched as you let out small moans with his hand around your neck and his cock deep inside your pussy. He could feel you clench around him, getting tighter, so he nodded. “Yeah, show me how you make yourself come.”

You really didn’t need much more, but still you started bouncing faster and finally rubbed your clit. Just for him to watch as you chased your high, which hit you in intense waves that seemed never ending.

“You’re so good for me,” he grunted, as his hips started speeding up again, now chasing his own orgasm. Whimpering as he fucked your through your orgasm and straight into another one, you felt your walls bearing down on him as it nearly hit you — the way it was drawn out just made you sure it would build up even stronger and hit you harder.

“I’m gonna come again,” you let out in a small whimper.

“Fuck, yes, baby. Come on my cock,” he grunted, pulling you back into him and therefore slamming into you harder. “I’m so close, too.”

“I want you to come in me.” It turned him on just as much as it did you, so you repeated yourself when his grunts got more desperate and his thrusts more sloppy. “Come in me, Jer. I need it. Need to be so fucking full.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, as he finally reached his high at the same time your second orgasm came crushing in. Your nails dug back into his skin, so deeply, as you felt his cock pulse inside you, heat flooding between your legs and his head falling back onto the couch with the most gorgeous fucked-out look on his face.

"God— oh my god—" Jeremy panted out, still in the post orgasm haze, starting to catch his breath. With your last remaining energy, you lifted yourself just enough to kiss him gently.

“Welcome home, baby.”

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 10 months ago

Text

(a.svechnikov) - all for the little one’s christmas joy

a/n: like always because i’m the worst it isn’t really proofread so good luck reading it but merry christmas everybody from me to you ❤️🎄

synopsis: singlemom!reader gets christmas ready with the support of andrei

word count: +2.9k

warnings: nothing really? i’m not sure — please let me know if there is anything else so i can take it properly!

tagging: @jostystyles @mrs-mikko-rantanen @davidpastrsnack @smileysvech @ilyasorokinn @fallinallincurls

—

you heard the sound of little footprints before you heard the tiny voice, “mommy?”

“what are you still doing awake?” you asked closing the fridge door.

sebastian was standing in the doorway holding the ‘canes’ bear andrei had gotten him when you first started dating. he had tears in his eyes. you slid the cup of juice across the island and rushed over to him.

crouching down you, wiped the tears falling down his face.

“what’s wrong baby?” you soothed.

“i miss andrei.”

“aw, i miss him too, but he’ll be back later tonight and i promise you’ll see him in the morning.”

“first thing?” his eyes eager as his voice lifted.

“first thing.” you nodded.

“can i stay up with you?”

“it’s way past your bedtime, honey,” you said running your hands across his shoulders softly.

you watched as his face fell again and tears welled in his chocolate brown eyes again.

“okay, okay, i’ll tell you what, fifteen minutes and then back to bed for you.”

he jumped up and down screaming yay over and over again.

“shhh.” you soothed and took his hand leading him to the couch. you settled into the sofa first and sebastian crawled up with you, wrapping himself around you. you laughed but let him bury his head in your arm, his own clutching ‘stormy’ tightly.

you draped a blanket around the both of you and clicked on mickey’s once upon a christmas. it had been your favorite as a kid and now it was your son’s. he adored it and andrei had never seen it, but by now he had seen it at least five times in the last three days.

when he wasn’t on the road, andrei spent as much time with seb as he could and seb loved every minute of it. you were so thankful for him being so kind and patient with him. he even helped him make his stocking this year, a family tradition of yours you had carried on with your son.

you glanced at the fireplace with the red and black stockings hanging in the middle with ‘canes’ logos all over them and poorly written names on them.

sebastian had heard brady call andrei, ‘svechy’, once and from that moment on sebastian wanted to be like him and called ‘sebby’. so on your mantle there was svechy and sebby.

he adored svechy’s teammate, sebastian aho, and loved sharing a name with the sweet finn, but he adored svechy more so he ditched his ‘name twin’ and moved on.

a fact that sebastian didn’t take too hard because he still got plenty of love from the youngster.

honestly, you never would have thought that a group of hockey players and their wonderful girlfriends and wives from all corners of the world would be your family, but you were thankful for it every day.

they all cared so much about sebastian and showering him with love and toys. lots and lots of toys. for the last two christmases, his room was full of dinosaurs and hockey stuff. they constantly adjusted to whatever new thing he liked.

you didn’t think someone so little could have so many grown men wrapped around their finger, but leave it to your son.

it didn’t take long before sebby was passed out in your lap and you weren’t far behind him.

peeking at the clock on your phone, you saw the message from andrei pop up. they had just touched down and was heading home. you replied with a single heart and went back to the movie. the story had changed to goofy’s and max’s your favorite of the three, but you couldn’t keep your eyes open for it as sebby snuggled closer to you.

when andrei walked in, he shrugged off his coat and kicked off his shoes in the den before creeping further into the dark house.

he could hear the faint sounds of the tv and he recognized that movie anywhere. he was dreaming about mickey and his friends the last past couple of days, but he would spend the rest of his life watching the classic disney film if it meant making you and sebby happy.

“baby?” andrei called out in a whisper.

he paused in the living room doorway.

andrei smiled to himself as he took in the sight in front of him. he had a dopey smile on his face as he approached you two. his cold hands touching your face.

andrei rubbed his thumb across your cheek and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. then he kissed the top of sebastian’s head as you stirred.

“hi, honey,” you whispered sleepily.

“hi,” he whispered back with a peck to your lips.

“he couldn’t sleep, missed you.”

andrei frowned, “i missed him too.”

he took sebby in his arms with a groan. you could tell he was sore from the game they had just flown back from, his muscles tight as he adjusted his grip on the sleeping five-year-old.

“and you.” andrei kicked your foot as he stood in the glow of the tree lights.

“did you miss me?” andrei asked with a smirk.

“i always miss you, dre.” you said seductively. you could tell in the dim light his cheeks flushed as his eyes flashed with lust.

you shook your head, “you’ve been gone for a day and a half.”

“a day and a half too long,” he muttered.

“it was plenty of time for me to decorate the house.” you chirped.

“it looks great.” andrei spun in place, rocking sebby in his grip. surprisingly, sebastian hadn’t stirred yet.

finally, you stood up and kissed dre softly. he leaned into the moment, chasing the touch.

the sudden movement jerked sebastian in andrei’s arms gripped tighter onto dre’s neck.

he chuckled, as sebastian's grip tugged on his t-shirt.

“meet you upstairs,” you said walking back to the kitchen to the forgotten juice cup on the island as andrei disappeared upstairs.

–

the next morning, sebastian was running into your room bright and early. he climbed onto the bed and smushed his face against andrei’s. on his way up, he had kicked you in the face. so you were suddenly very awake and aware of how sebby had settled himself in your bed.

“mista svechnikov!!” sebby was giggling in his face, nose pressed against dre’s.

you laughed as dre startled awake.

seb’s nose was pressed against andrei’s as he kept giggling the phrase over and over again.

“i’m going to kill marty for showing him that.” mista svechnikov mumbled against a face full of sebby.

“it’s cute.” you giggled.

“oh?” andrei popped an eyebrow as he flipped sebastian over and started tickling him. he fell against you, his face propped up against you. his giggles radiating in the room.

you joined in with andrei in tickling him until you all were in a fit of laughter.

“hey buddy, guess who’s coming over today?” you asked hovering over sebby who was almost crying from all the chuckling.

“GRANDMA?!” sebastian shouted whacking you in the face.

“yes, yes, she’ll be here soon, so go get ready.” you picked sebastian up and the minute his feet hit the floor, he took off running toward his room.

you laughed again and slumped against andrei.

“grandma coming?” he asked quizzically.

“yes, so we can do some holiday shopping…and other things.”

“other things?” drei wiggled his eyebrows and knocked you backward on the bed. he swung his leg over yours and rested on his arms as he pressed his large frame against yours.

“mista svechnikov,”

“not you too.” he dropped his head in the crook of your neck as you giggled.

he smothered your skin in soft kisses, drawing more snickers out of you.

he kept at it till the laughter turned to moans, his teeth scraping your pulse point, a blush rising in your cheeks.

“dre…” you mumbled.

“mmm?” he hummed against your skin.

“dre.” you said more sternly, “we should get up before…” sebastian came running into the room, waving his arms as they flailed in his jacket.

andrei bolted to his side of the bed with a groan as you slid out from under the covers and scooped seb in your arms, pulling his jacket on him in the process.

it was a couple of minutes later before andrei joined you downstairs. your mom was making coffee when he walked in.

seamlessly, she passed off a mug to him and he kissed her cheek before plopping down on the floor with sebastian.

seb scooted to be closer to dre as he sipped on the coffee. sebby kept playing with his monster truck across the floor as you talked to your mom about the plans you had for the day.

andrei was half paying attention to the conversation. his ears perked up every time he heard his name, but you stuck your tongue out at him.

“okay so dre and i are going to go to the store, we’ll be back later,” you said.

“be careful,” your mom said.

“we will,” you kissed your mom on the cheek before heading for your keys and coat.

drei passed sebastian off to your mom in a seamless move. the two of you moved quickly enough that you had a fair chance of getting out of the driveway before sebastian realized the both of you were gone, especially andrei.

he was always too wrapped up in his monster truck to notice, but more often than not when he realized a few moments later drei was gone he started screaming.

your mom was an angel for staving off the meltdowns.

drei hummed along to one of the christmas songs playing on the radio as he backed out of the driveway.

his fingers were intertwined in yours as he held them up to his lips. he pressed them softly against your skin.

“you’re such a weirdo.” you giggled.

“what?” drei asked offended.

you were teasing him. drei dropped your hand from his lips, but kept your fingers interlocked with his as he pulled onto the street.

the traffic was awful during the holidays, but this sunday everything was worse as christmas was less than a week away.

andrei and you had a list of things to get before the holiday so you wouldn’t have to go out during the last frenzy of the season.

“marty says he’s getting seb one of his jerseys for christmas.” andrei said as you walked toward the entrance of the store.

“oh he’ll love that.” you laughed.

“aho too,” drei added.

“at this point he’s going to have the whole team.”

“yeah, but mine is the most important,” andrei said and you could detect the jealousy in his voice.

“aw, you’ll always be the one he loves the most,” you said sweetly wrapping an arm around his waist.

andrei did the same and kissed your temple as he tugged you into his side.

drei read your list to you as he pushed the cart. you were grabbing a couple of clothes and new shoes for sebastian for christmas although the guys were making sure he was decked out in canes gear almost every day of the year.

he wouldn’t wear most of the clothes you bought him anyway because he loved dressing up like andrei and the hockey players he called his friends.

sebastian was starting to grow more and more every day, so all the clothes were necessary as he constantly outgrew the ones he already had.

while you picked out clothes, drei was eyeing the toy aisle. he was itching to get sebby some new toys.

sometimes you swore that andrei was kind of like your other child, he sure acted like it with sebastian anytime sebby wanted ice cream for dinner or to stay up late.

“go, i’ll meet you over there.” you relented.

andrei kissed you in front of the toddler shoes before taking off towards the toy section.

by the time you walked over to the toy section with a pair of dinosaur tennis shoes in your hands, andrei had filled up the cart full of toys.

“no.” you said.

“what?” andrei said whipping around with a few stuffed animals in his arms.

“you cannot give sebastian all of this,” you motioned towards the cart full of toy cars and dinosaur figurines plus loads of hockey gear.

“why not? you don’t think he will like it?” drei asked innocently.

you tilted your head with a curt nod, “svechy, the problem is that he will love all of this. that’s why you can’t give it to him.”

“but–”

“no, andrei, no buts. he is the luckiest kid in the whole world to have you in his life and he loves you so so so much, but he does not need any more stuff.”

“mmm,” andrei said.

“so let’s pick out a few things to give him and put the rest back.”

“okay,” andrei relents.

“you know, if you want to get all this stuff, i bet there are some charities we can give them to.”

“yeah that would be cool,” andrei says.

“seb can help too.” you nodded.

“okay,” andrei smiled at you as he piled the stuff back into the cart.

as you finished looking around the store full of christmas goodies and stressed out parents, you clocked some looks at you.

who knows if they were because you were walking hand in hand with andrei svechnikov of the carolina hurricanes or because of the mountain of toys in the red buggy?

after loading the trunk of the car, you and drei stopped to grab some dinner. he ordered a mac n cheese to go for sebastian.

“you know mom has already fed him.” you said.

“i know, but he likes it when we bring him stuff.” andrei shrugged.

andrei was it for you, the love of your life, and the father of your child even if they weren’t biologically related.

“i love you, drei.” you said when you got back to the car.

“i love you too darlin’.” drei said and leaned over the middle console to kiss you.

you could kiss him forever, you thought.

but as the evening bled into night, you needed to get home to reprieve your mom from sebastian’s antics.

drei and you got home right as sebastian was falling asleep.

he was cuddled up on the couch underneath his favorite blanket with ‘bluey’ playing on the living room tv.

“how’d it go?” your mom whispered as she helped you carry in some of the gifts. she was all set up in the dining room ready to help you wrap some of the gifts.

“drei went overboard.” you deadpanned and andrei smiled innocently as he held up ten different bags and there were so many more.

“of course he did,” your mom chuckled.

“hey, it’s why love me,” andrei said his accent thick as he set them down.

“yes we do!” your mom said with a grin.

“sometimes,” you teased.

“hey!” andrei yelped.

“you my favorite.” andrei said and kissed your mom on the cheek as he sat down next to her and helped wrap the gifts. every package that was for charity you wrapped in a different color of wrapping paper than sebastian’s and wrote a special note on the paper.

andrei was not good at wrapping gifts at all. your mom and you kept laughing at him as he tried so desperately to help.

“mommy?” sebby asked as he came into the room, his blanket clutched in his hand as he rubbed at his sleepy eyes.

“oh hi baby,” you said and picked him up as your mom and andrei hurried to cover up the exposed presents.

“i missed you.” your little boy said.

“i missed you too, sebby.” you said and kissed his face.

seb giggled softly in your arms, his voice thick with sleep.

“do you wanna go to bed?” you murmured.

“can svechy take me?” he asked against your neck.

“of course buddy,” andrei answered for you, getting up from the table at the same time.

andrei took sebby from your arms without a word and carried him down the hall.

“you need to marry that boy.” your mom said as she continued to wrap the presents.

“mom!” you yelled in disbelief.

“i’m just saying…that boy loves you and sebastian.”

“i know, mom.” you shifted uncomfortably.

andrei walked your mom to her car after he finally slipped away from sebastian who was getting him to read book after book even in his sleepy state.

“thank you,” you whispered as andrei crawled into bed with you.

he was still cold from the chill outside as he wrapped his arms around you. you gasped at the coldness in his skin, but quickly his body morphed with yours and the warmth of the bed intoxicated you both.

“of course, i love your mom.” andrei said.

“not just for that, but for everything andrei.”

andrei shifted to face you. his eyes were curious and his eyebrows quirked.

“for just being you and being so good at seb. he loves you so much and me too,” you said.

“i’d do anything for sebby,” andrei whispered.

andrei kissed you so softly and so deeply, “anything for you. i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too, drei. merry christmas.”

“it’s not christmas yet.” andrei laughed at you.

“i know, but…” you trailed off.

“merry christmas, y/n.” andrei chuckled as you smacked his arm and he pulled you closer underneath the covers.

–

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 11 months ago

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Daddy’s tired

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: Daddy’s tired so he lets you take what you need from him yourself

warnings: daddy kink, (extreme overuse of daddy), kind of innocent reader, smut| oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex,

Keep reading

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 11 months ago

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what's in a name , jeremy swayman

note, i love them, i do. and i'm not even a boston fan. anyways, this fic is part of the "swinging with the swaymans" series. check out this masterlist for more. pair, jeremy swayman x reader summary, y/n surprises jeremy at practice with baby eli, where they then surprise linus (and the team) with eli's full name. warnings, babies word count, 1159 words

(gif not mine)

“Bye Bye,” Jeremy spoke in a baby voice as he said his goodbyes to Elijah. You watched, waiting to take your son from him when he was done. It was Jeremy’s first day back at practice, which, since Elijah was born, would be the longest they had been apart.

“We’ll be okay, won’t we, Eli?” You shook his little hand softly, “Tell Daddy we’ll be okay.” you smiled up at Jeremy, who looked nervous. Elijah babbled his baby talk, whining when he was moved from his dad’s arms and into yours, but quickly settled down.

"I’ll miss you both.” He frowned, leaning in and pecking your lips.

“I’ll miss you, too. And so will Eli, even if he doesn’t know it.” You smiled, leaning up and pecking him back.

“I love you both,”

“We love you, too, Jer.” You sighed, waving Elijah’s little hand as Jeremy picked up his bags. he slung the duffle bag over his shoulder then pressed one more quick kiss to each of your heads before he stared longingly at you and waved.

“Go.” You laughed, pushing him out the door carefully. Once he was gone, you set your plan in motion. You packed your bags and got Elijah situated in the car. You were thankful that he had distracted himself and wasn't screaming his head off.

You transferred him from the car seat to the baby carrier, making sure he was comfortable and warm, making funny faces at him and smiling when he giggled at them.

You greeted the security guards, who peeked into the baby carrier, making his own funny face, and smiled when Eli giggled at him. You decided to take the long way to show Eli around, even though he wouldn't remember or understand anything you were showing him.

You finally made it to the rink and couldn't but smile when you heard all the guys laughing and skating around. You carefully got Eli out of the carrier and pointed out all the guys to him.

Eli's eyes were wide as he took everything in. From the glass to the ice to the skates to the guys, "There's daddy." You pointed across the ice over to the other side of the rink where Jeremy was in front of the net.

Eli followed your hand but no look of recognition crossed his face, which made sense. Eli's attention was quickly taken when Charlie Coyle stopped in front of you and was waving to him. You could tell he was basking in the attention he was getting from the guys because of how big the smile on his face was.

Practice had seemingly halted as all the guys had skated over to say hi, which confused Jeremy. He couldn't tell what was going on from the other end of the ice, so he skated over.

Once he got closer, he finally saw who had distracted everyone. He took off his mask as he skated closer. Once Eli saw his dad, a look of recognition finally crossed his face and he smiled. A path was formed and Jeremy skated through, a smile on his face too.

"Hi, buddy." He beamed, waving and making funny faces at Eli, which sent him into a fit of giggles and laughs which, in turn, made Jeremy smile even bigger.

Eventually, an assistant coach came over and broke up the scene. You watched Jeremy skate backward, a pout on his face as you laughed and waved Eli's hand at him again. You pointed over to the general area where you would be sitting to watch practice and that seemed to brighten his mood.

You stayed for the rest of warmups, which was only about 20 minutes, but Eli fell asleep halfway through and was out. You sat in the bleachers, even after practice was over, waiting for Jeremy to come out.

While you waited, you talked to the security guard who was always by the glass during warmups. He entertained Eli with some funny faces, joked around with you, and showed you pictures of his grandbaby who had been born just a few months before.

Eventually, after about half an hour, Jeremy came out, which you were expecting. What you didn't expect was almost half the team to come out with him. Practically the entire team had come out of the locker room to see Eli.

"They wanted to meet him." He shrugged, setting his bags down and taking the baby from you. You smiled, accepting the hug from a few of the guys. You watched as all the guys fawned over Eli. Your heart warmed at the smile on Jeremy's face as he held Eli and showed him around the circle of guys.

"So, tell us, what's his name?" You broke through into the circle, stood by Jeremy, and smiled.

"His name is Elijah Linus Swayman," Jeremy stated, a proud smile on his face as he looked over at the other goaltender, who was standing there, frozen, as he took everything in.

The guys patted him on the back and cheered for him. Jeremy handed Eli over to you as Linus pulled him in for a hug. When they pulled away, Linus turned to you and pulled you in for a hug, careful not to disturb Eli too much.

"Do you want to hold him?" You asked. The look on his face melted your heart, and once he was ready, you set Eli in his arms. Linus began cooing over the baby and couldn't stop smiling.

Eli eventually went around the circle and each of the guys got to hold him, cooing and fawning over him. While all the guys were busy fawning over your baby, Linus turned to you and Jeremy with a smile on his face.

"Thank you both for this. I'm truly honored." He put a hand to his heart as he spoke, "This is the sweetest thing."

"Well, would you pass out if we asked you to be his godfather too?" Jeremy asked, laughing at the shocked look on his face once again.

"Really?" He asked, his voice squeaky.

"Really." You both nodded, laughing when he quickly pulled you both in for a hug. Eventually, the guys started saying goodbye and began filing out to leave.

You turned to Jeremy when it was just you and him, "This was a nice surprise." Jeremy smiled, setting Eli down in the carrier and wrapping you in a hug, "I wasn't expecting to see you two until after practice."

"Wanted to surprise you." You hummed, looking up at him, "I'm ready to go home." He smiled, kissing your head.

"Let's go home. We'll take your car and I'll catch a ride tomorrow."

"Yeah?" You raised a brow at him, throwing the diaper bag strap over your shoulder while Jeremy did the same with his own bag.

"Yeah. You can sleep on the ride home." He threw an arm around your shoulders while the other pushed the stroller.

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 1 year ago

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It's Never Easy

Kinktober Day 24: Edging

Tags: Steven Grant x Reader x Marc Spector x Jake Lockley, yeah that's right they're all here baby, afab!fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), unprotected piv (wrap it irl I am begging you), edging, crying during sex, orgasm denial (w/c: 1.3K)

A/N: Yeah that's right the boys are back in town, and by that I mean all three moonboys. They're all little shits and I adore them (For Kinktober, I've been using this list from flightlessangelwings!)

You think that you’re finally wearing Steven down.

He’s been at this for hours now, you think, burying himself between your thighs and losing himself like he never wants to leave. He’s fucking incessant when he gets you like this, licking at your cunt until his eyes have glazed over and he’s grinding slowly into the bedsheets. He moans when you tug at his hair, the vibrations from it going up your spine.

“Fuck, Steven, I need-” you moan, your chest heaving with the way Steven sucks your clit into his mouth, licking at you in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your hips hump into his face, chasing the sensation. “I can’t, fuck, I’m gonna- think I’m gonna-”

He pulls his face away just like that, watching as you shout, your hips grinding into nothing but air as your pleasure and your orgasm dissipate. He holds your thighs apart and just looks at the way you tremble, his eyes wide and a blush high on his face.

“That’s it, darling, so fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, and you grind your teeth together. This is the third time, the third fucking time, he’s done that. Gotten you so close, your body locking up and threatening to fall off that precipice, before he pulls himself away, leaving you with nothing.

It’s fucking maddening, and Steven just watches, squeezing at his thick cock as it aches between his legs.

“Please, Steven,” you whine, high pitched and needy. “Need you to let me cum, fuck, please let me cum.” You sound so pitiful, so desperate, that Steven’s eyes soften at your begging.

“Oh, I know, love,” he murmurs, sliding a thick finger up the seam of your cunt. “Need it so bad, yeah? It’s okay, darling, I’ll let you cum,”

You nearly sob with relief when he leans back down and sucks your clit into his mouth, sinking two fingers into your entrance. He’s relentless, playing with your clit with his tongue, nudging the tips of his fingers into a little spot inside of you that makes you want to cry. Your orgasm surges back up inside you without warning, and you can’t fucking breathe.

You brace yourself for him to do it again, to pull away when you start babbling, “Gonna cum, fuck, please let me cum,” between heaving moans. But Steven doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow down, and you start to smile with the fact that he’s actually going to let you have it this time without pulling away.

Except, he does pull away.

You cry out as Steven’s head shoots up from between your legs again, but you can only watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head, his jaw clenched.

Marc looks up at you from his place between your thighs, a cocky little smirk playing at his lips.

“Oh baby,” he says, and his voice is gruff, dark, so unlike Steven’s. “You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?” You gasp for air as Marc sinks a third finger into you, and he grins.

“So pretty when you’re almost fucking there, sweetheart,” Marc murmurs, and he leans close to brush his lips against yours in a whisper of a kiss. “Whining, pleading for us to just let you cum. Steven was going to let it happen, put an end to your misery, but me?” He fucks his hand into you so hard that you choke on a moan. “I like seeing you squirm.”

And the process starts over again.

Marc fucks you on his fingers without a hint of remorse, driving into your g-spot in violent, debilitating thrusts that have you reeling.

You get so close so many fucking times, over and over and over again, your body drawn tight with the overwhelming need to cum. You beg, plead, gripping the bedsheets so hard that you fear you might tear them. But Marc. Doesn’t. Stop.

Every time he feels it, that tell-tale tightening of your body, hears the way you start to go quiet as you focus on finally falling over that precipice, he pulls his hand out of you without any finesse, any mercy.

Around the third time he does it, you really do start to cry, sobbing for Marc to finally let you cum, that you need it so bad it hurts.

“Can’t- it’s too much, Marc, please, please let me, need it so ba-ad,” you hiccup through your moans, tears bubbling up in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks.

Marc leans down and kisses them away, cooing at you as he grinds the calloused tips of his fingers into the most sensitive parts of your cunt.

“Okay, sweet girl, I’ve got you, come on,” he murmurs, his thumb coming up to press against your clit, grinding little circles into it and sending you fucking flying. “Don’t cry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank-” you’re in the middle of thanking him, practically tasting your orgasm on your desperate tongue, when Marc’s eyes roll back, and his hand rips away from your cunt.

“No,” you whine, choking on your tears as your body quakes beneath his, “no, no, please.” You’re practically hysterical, desperate for it after so fucking long, after Steven and Marc have shredded you apart.

“Princesa,” Jake grins down above you, unmistakable with his dark gaze and a smile that is purely fucking primal, feral. “If you think you’re going to cum on anything but my cock, you’re wrong.”

And you can only gasp at Jake notches the thick, leaking head of his cock against your gaping entrance, and shoves himself in to the hilt.

You scream, your back bending into an obscene arch as he fills you up so perfectly.

“Jake, Jake,” you sob through labored breaths, “I can’t, it’s been, I don’t know how long it’s been, please, please. I need to cum, fuck, ‘m begging.”

“Oh, my beautiful girl,” Jake croons, “Of course you can.”

Of course you can. Like you’ve had permission all along, like it was that easy. Like you haven’t been broken apart by each of them, over and over again, reduced to a sobbing, shaking mess beneath their body.

He’s only one, two thrusts in, but you’re coming anyway, screaming with it as tears flow down your cheeks. Your entire body locks up with it, your cunt squeezing tight around Jake’s cock in rhythmic pulses that have him clutching painfully at your hips. Sweet, sweet relief fills your body, like water in a desert, the sun after a hurricane. It’s fucking bliss, incomparable, absolutely debilitating.

“Mierda, that’s fucking beautiful, fuck,” Jake growls, and he presses into your body so deep you think you can feel it in your stomach, and pumps you full of his cum. “Good girl,” you hear him mutter, “Good fucking girl,” before darkness grows into the edges of your vision and quickly swallowing it whole, leaving you to fall into pitch black oblivion.

When you finally come back to yourself, you feel warm, safe. It’s no surprise to you, since you usually feel that way in this flat, in this bed.

“I didn’t fucking kill her, Steven,” you hear Jake growl. “She’s breathing just fine. And don’t act innocent, you and I both know that you worked her just as hard as Marc and I did.”

“And you all better pamper me,” you croak, still refusing to open your eyes, “As soon as I take a nap.”

“Hermosa,” you hear Jake breathe, and you feel his lips press to your forehead. You crack open your eyes to meet Jake’s gaze, his eyes wide and more worried than he usually lets on. “Are you alright? You- you passed out.” he asks, and you giggle.

“Never been better,” you murmur. “But any of you try that shit again, it’s no sex for a fucking year.”

Jake grins in that roguish way that makes your heart flutter. "As if you could resist any of us for that long, mi vida."

#melted into a puddle #HOOOOOmygod #chefs kiss #moon knight

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 1 year ago

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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

#baby skjei

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 1 year ago

Note

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.

#BABY SKJEI #i miss this man

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 1 year ago

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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.

#baby skjei #🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 1 year ago

Note

54 “don’t forget who you belong to with Andrei Svechnikov

Andrei Svechnikov x Fem! reader

Warnings?; SMUT, semi public sex, quickie, p i v, unprotected sex(wrap it before u tap it!), degrading, small breeding kink, small daddy kink, spit, DIRTY TALK

A/n: i got a little carried away with this one..

Andrei was just about fed up with your games tonight, from the short dress that your ass was almost hanging out of, flirting with the bartender, letting guys flirt with you until he intervened. He knew what you wanted and the second he pulled you into the private club bathroom he realized he had lost.

But part of him didn't care, you were showing off what belonged to him and letting other men think they could ever have a chance with you.

He had you pinned against the counter with a hand wrapped around your throat and tongue fighting with yours, with a hard tug to your freshly done hair he had you gasping enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth completely.

You placed your hand in his hair, tugging as well making him let out a growl as he pulled away from your mouth. He moved his hands to the back of your thighs as he picked you up and placed you on the counter top.

He began sliding the very short hem of your dress up, revealing your bare and glistening pussy to him.

"No panties? Your such a slut" he degraded making you whine out

" 'm not a slut" you pouted

"No? sure looked like one when you were out there flirting with every man that gave you a drop of attention, and for what? So i'd fuck you? You were getting fucked no matter what" he taunted

"drei please" you moaned as he ran a finger through your folds

"What? what do you want me to do princess?"

"Want you to fuck me and pump be full of your cum"

"Yeah? want me to pump my babies into huh? Gonna make me a daddy" he asked as he slid a finger into you.

"Oh shit! yes" you moaned, head thrown back

He watched in amusement as you whined out when he removed his fingers from your tight cunt, before unzipping his pants and pulling his hard cock out from his boxers.

You moaned at the sight of the swollen red head, dripping pre-cum.

"Spit" he commanded from you as he held his hand under your mouth and groaning as you held his eye contact while you did so.

He used your spit to get his cock wet before pulling you closer to the edge of the counter and sliding himself into you, letting out a deep moan at the feeling of your pussy hugging him.

"Anderi!" you moaned looking down and watching as he began his hard thrust.

He looped a hand into your hair and pulled your head back as he placed kisses and sucked all around your neck.

"This pussy belongs to me" he whispered into your ear and snapping his hips into yours at a fast pace.

"All your's daddy" you moaned and pushed him away from your neck so you could pull him into a hard kiss full of tongue and teeth.

He dropped a hand to your clit and watched in admiration as your thighs began to shake, you moans turning into high pitched whimpers, You were close.

"Getting close baby?" he asked

"Mhm, may i cum? Please Drei"

"Go on baby I'm right behind you" he groaned grabbing your thighs for leverage and began increasing his brutal pounding into your pussy.

"Fuck! I'm close" he groaned

"Cum for me Andrei" you encouraged

Right before he made his last thrust he pulled you in by your throat and growled into your ear, "Don't forget who you belong to, ever again" before emptying himself deep inside you.

#🫨🫨🫨🫨🫨🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨#daddy svech

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 1 year ago

Text

Hold me down and make me be good

Brady Skjei is a spicy Aries and you’re being a brat…

Brady comes home from a bad practice and you can tell immediately. He’s throwing his bag around and mumbling under his breath and he sits down on the couch and just collapses. You’ve been home bored all day and decide to have a little fun. He starts ranting to you about something that happened and you’re snuggled into the corner of the couch, on your phone, half listening cause you know it will drive him crazy. You can hear his inflection go up and get more and more annoyed with your “mhmm’s” and “oh’s.” Frustration settling in, he looks over at you “are you even listening to me?” You smile sweetly with a hint of a smirk and say “of course, baby.” He looks at you with heat in his eyes “don’t do this to me right now, I’m not in the mood.” “Do what?” You smile with mischief in your eyes. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing and I need you to stop.” His eyes are getting wild and you start squirming in your seat, feeling yourself getting more and more turned on by the second. Brady doesn’t lose it very often, but when he does it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. You can’t always find that hair trigger that will make him snap to man on a mission, but it seems you have today. He starts crawling over to you peels his shirt off. He takes the blanket and puts in on the back of the couch, takes your phone and places it on the side table. He takes your hands and pins them to the arm of the couch you’re leaning against, and crawls onto your legs, pinning your hips down. You try to wriggle out from under him, and he just leans into you and you feel more than hear him groan. His shorts are tight and you can see his bulge growing underneath them. Knowing how bothered he is by your behaviour gets you so hot, but you’re not ready to give in just yet. “So we’re going to do this the hard way. Ok. Take your top off” He releases your hands. His voice is thick, deep and gravelly. You drop your arms, stare him down and don’t move. “Make me” you say. He groans so deep he’s almost growling and takes both your wrists in one hand and holds them over your head and tugs your top up and over your head, pulling you forward as he does, then releasing your wrists as he throws it. “Are you going to be this fucking difficult the whole time?” You don’t answer. He’s undoing your bra, throwing it, and cupping your breasts, running a thumb over your nipples. You want to moan, but you stop yourself. You know that your silence also drives him wild. There’s nothing he likes more than you screaming out his name making the neighbours give you glances in the hallways of the condo you share. “I’m going to get up now” he is speaking really slowly with intention and his eyes are burning into yours. “I’m going to let you go so I can take off these shorts and fuck you into next Friday, but when I let you go, Don’t. Fucking. Move” he almosts spits the words at you. Your heart is in your throat and you almost can’t swallow. You’re seriously aching for him at this point and when he gets up to take off the shorts you start unbuttoning your jeans. He stares you down, but his hands are preoccupied by his tight lycra shorts. He’s trying to get them off too quickly and can’t stop you. “I swear to god, if you keep going” he says, but you have your jeans and underwear slid off your ass and are pushing them down to the other end of the couch with your feet. He’s stopped moving, daring you to do more. You slowly start moving your hand back down, dying to release some of the tension you are feeling. He furrows his brow. He’s breathing heavily, both exasperated and extremely turned on. He finally gets his legs out of his shorts, cock free, and it is red and leaking. You think about how hot and horny you’ve got him and you slide your fingers into your folds. You’re soaking wet at this point and he lunges for you. “No, none of that. You don’t deserve that the way you’ve been acting.” You pout and he leans into you like he’s going to bite your lip, but he just presses is face into yours and says “lie back” and pushes you down, not giving you a chance to disobey. He pins you again and straddles you. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand up to his face. “Why do you not just listen to me. Fucking insubordination.” You giggle at the word and this makes him tighten his grip around your wrist. He brings your wet fingers to his mouth and starts sucking on them. “mmmm God, you drive me fucking crazy baby” he’s climbing on to of you, leaning over. His other hand is on your shoulder pinning you back. You spread your legs out for him and he looks down at the movement. “Shit baby, you’re so fucking ready for me, do you want to get fucked?” You bite your lip and whimper. “I need you to use your words please” you close your eyes and moan. “That’s still not good enough” he releases your arm and leans in, putting his hand under your chin and lifting your face to his “I need you to say yes or no.” You look at him and swallow hard “yes” you whisper and he quickly leans back and pulls your legs up over his shoulders. “God baby you’re so wet, I don’t even need to get you ready for my cock” he says, lining up to your entrance. “I’m not going to be gentle, but I know you can take it” he takes his hand around his cock and pushes in, and then he’s thrusting into you, hard. You half moan half scream at his rough entrance and you can tell he likes it. He’s squeezing your ankles, his arms wrapped around your legs, holding you against him. “Scream all you want baby you did this to yourself You could have had this nice and easy, but no, you had to be a fucking menace and now you’re getting what you deserve” you are breathing heavily and moaning a little with each thrust, but not letting yourself go yet. He leans down you bend your knees over his shoulders. He hits a new, deeper angle and you can see him lose it for a second, he shudders a bit and closes his eyes. You whine and he opens them again. “You gonna be loud for me darling?” You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. He takes one hand and drags it down your inner thigh and starts teasing at your clit with two of his fingers. You let out a long whine, but you know that’s not what he wants. “Ain’t gonna cut it darling” he takes his hand and grabs your chin again. “if you’re not going to be loud for me, you might as well make your mouth useful” he says, sticking his fingers in your mouth. You taste yourself on him and he keeps fucking you into the arm of the couch. “You were so naughty now I’m filling all of your holes” you moan around your fingers, sucking hard. His voices catches and you know you have him again. This power struggle will keep going until one of you breaks. You know each other’s buttons and you both love pushing them. You moan again and you tighten yourself around his dick. “Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good like this” he says, his voice breaking, and you consider that a win. You match his rhythm pressing down into the couch and he grabs your hips and starts losing it “god baby, you’re so good you drive me crazy and I fucking love you, you’re so hot like this” he just strings together praises as his rhythm gets jerky and he’s coming into you in deep thrusts and long groans. You start to ramp up when you feel him getting close, finally shouting ”yeah, fuck me Brady, just like that baby” and fuck him through his orgasm. His head drops as he climaxes and you stroke his hair as he comes down. When he finally looks up and you he asks “what do you want” and you reply “finish me with your mouth” and he smiles a thousand watt smile and slowly pulls out of you and moves down the couch. He presses his tongue against you and then slowly starts flicking around your folds until he finds the spot that makes your hips buck up. You swear loudly and he moans into your pussy, the vibrations making you even more wild. “Fuck Brady, that’s so fucking good. Yes, right fucking there” your voice starting to get louder and go up higher and higher until you’re just screaming a litany of curse words mixed with his name and digging your nails into his scalp and pulling his hair as he brings you to your climax. You hold his head there as you come down, but he looks up at you with his big brown eyes and lightly kisses your inner thighs. Finally, you release him and he climbs up on top of you and kisses you hard. He’s holding himself on top of you so that you feel his weight, but it’s not crushing you, and he feels like the perfect weighted blanket covering your whole body. “You good baby” he asks. “Mmm, so good” you moan and tangle your hands in the hairs on the nape of his neck. Eventually he turns to one side, putting his back up against the couch, and you turn on your side to face him, your legs tangle at the other end of the couch. “You know how much I love you, right?” he says as he pulls the blanket from the back of the couch where he lay it earlier, covering you both . “Yes baby” you say and cup the side of his face. “you fucking drive me crazy, but I think I really needed that today. I feel fucking great now” and you laugh, kissing his nose. “I always know what you need” you say, and he smiles and closes his eyes. “Next time maybe we’ll have romantic, non competitive sex” he says and you laugh, throwing your head back a bit. “Sounds boring” you say and lean in for a real kiss.

#baby skjei #😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

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rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 2 years ago

Text

secret situationship with andrei

you, a new intern for the PTs in the hurricanes. andrei, lonely, overworked player. and lots of long hours. warnings: 18+ contains smut, mentions of injury n blood. also this is cliche as hell.

- uhhhhhhh so basically

- yes you have to get a certain amount of hours to graduate and stuff

- and your older friend is a PT for the canes so

- after the scariest interview of your life

- and lots of begging very polite asking from your friend

- you’re in

- tough job tbh

- these men have many ailments

- it takes you a while to figure out who needs what and

- how they all work and move their bodies

- but it’s easy to get accustomed to the new environment when they’re all very nice

- and welcoming

- they’re all very good at communicating and helping you out

- but also they always acknowledge you and want to know more about you

- all except

- Andrei

- oh andrei

- he’s not rude or anything like that

- he definitely said hi and introduced himself

- but he’s very quiet

- and after a couple of weeks you notice

- you work on him the most

- and he’s definitely not this quiet with anyone else

- like not any of the other staff either

- but I mean

- whatever ig

- it’s not that it doesn’t affect you but

- you’re there to do a job and that’s it

- however you see that his teammates for sure have noticed it as well

- whenever he walks in there they go quiet and there’s always a lil smirk from them

you just ignore it

- like he’s really not being rude but he’s just not friendly or ever talks to you

- he’s a lil strange???

- stares at you a lot when you think you don’t notice

- you try to push it to the back of your head and just deal with him

- it’s most likely part of the job and it won’t be the last time you’ll deal with someone like this

- one day tho

- he’s the last one out of the room

- you’re done working on his shoulder and he stands up quickly

- as he usually does

- always says thank you and bye

- you dont notice bc your back is turned to the door but

- he stops and turns around

- “so, uhhhh, what are you doing this weekend?”

- and you turn like ???????

- “oh! um, nothing much, just study, i guess”

- and before you can even ask him anything back

- “that’s good. have fun.”

- and he WALKS out

- you stand there in disbelief almost

- like okay

- in the next weeks he asks you a lil bit more

- the staring is really getting like…. a lot. But it’s only when you’re not facing him like ????

- that’s good tho you think? he’s warming up a lil bit?

- he gets hit by a puck one game and

- thankfully you don’t have to stitch him

- but he has a lovely cut on the top of his cheekbone

- the next day during morning skate it reopens

- while you’re organizing in the PT room on your own

- and he comes in

- sweaty, out of breath and bleeding

- “they open” he says

- “oh, sure”

- for some reason he decides to sit on the lil bench that’s in there

- instead of one of those high massage table things

- perhaps it’s bc he has hockey pads and skates still on and stuff

- so you got over and start working

stand in between his legs

- today tho

- he is STARING up at you

- his jaw a little slack and he’s still breathing heavy a little bit

- it’s hard to work when you have to be so close to his face

- and he is legitimately staring like not looking away once

- you try to get your hands as steady as you can

- “does that feel okay? let me know if it hurts.”

- “perfect. it feels perfect.”

- he almost whispers it asjdydbhehdebdh

- you almost sigh in relief when you get it done

- “there you go. all done”

- you say as you wipe the blood on the cheek from before and

- this man

- wraps his hands around your like jaw/neck/hair

- you know that part 😭 like when his thumb is under your ear

- and as he stands up he kisses you

- a full on kiss

- he pulls back when he’s standing up

- looks at your lips

- looks at your eyes

- kisses you again

- he breathes DEEP into the kiss oof

- after that second kiss he almost books it out of there

- just walks away

- says nothing

- doesn’t look at you

- and you’re just left standing there

- flushed, heart beating overtime, breathless

- what the hell just happened ?

- should you tell someone?

- why? and like what???????.??

- you just…. go back to what you were doing

incredulous

- he definitely avoids you after as much as he can

- awkward glances only

- when you see him he doesn’t bring anything up

- goes back to being quiet

- until you’re alone again

- “hi”

- “uhh….”

- “what can I help you with today, Andrei?”

- “uh, it’s my ankle. You know, the usual”

- so he lays down and you do the thing in silence

- you keep thinking how RIDICULOUS this is

- when you’re done…..

- “do you need anything else, Andrei? Another kiss, maybe?”

- and he does tHE STARE AGAIN

- 5, 4, 3, 2,…..

- he can’t help but sit up and kiss you again

- after that day the floodgates open

- instead of avoiding you he SEARCHES for you

- you guys sneak everywhere just to kiss and make out

- he finally opens up and he’s actually quite friendly and funny

- he hides you in storage rooms, one stall bathrooms, the PT room, empty video room….

- you guys just make out like teenagers

- you’re VERY careful not to get caught and so far it seems like no one has any idea

- but its very obvious to you both that things are starting to get a lil heated

- during your last makeout sessions he keeps pushing his body against yours

- like hard

- like.... your back hit the wall hard and he's low-key grinding on you

- but youre able to stop it before anything happens

- you guys always leave super flustered and breathless

- orrrr

- his hands start to wander a lil bit...

- from your face, then eventually your waist and now he loves to grip your hips as you guys kiss

- you can feel in the kiss too how bothered he is

- the way his tongue moves... much more aggressive

- much more spit, and biting, and even teeth

- or he'll put his hands in your hair and even grip it at times

- during the last couple of times you both moaned a little bit shh

- and he was definitely hard when he walked out

- so one night

- you're both at the arena late

- as you both usually are because yes you have things to do

- but also for your regular nightly makeout appointment

- when he walks into the PT room tonight tho

- he looks

- different

- like girl.... different

- his EYES

- much darker, much bigger

- practically black

- he doesnt say anything to you

- he just walks slowly towards you

- "uh.... Andrei?"

- finally he reaches you

- youre immobile, literally frozen

- he's actually mouth breathing dude

- his nose touches yours

- "I can't fucking wait anymore."

- "I can't pretend I don't want it."

- 4, 3, 2, 1

- he parts your lips with his tongue

- HARSH kiss

- while he grabs the back of your head

- HARSH makeout session

- grabs your waist after and immediately and puts you on the lil massage table thing

- you're both moaning already

- he RIPS your shirt open

- rips it with his hands, split right in the middle

- "fuck"

- he pulls your bra down and just starts attacking your neck, chest and tits with his lips and tongue and teeth

- he only pulls back to take off his shirt and his sweatpants come down easily thanks to you

- his cock springs out bc he is not wearing any boxers

- its huge, and red, and actually throbbing

- the flush of his cock matches the one on his heaving chest

- he pulls you down the table and turns you around so he can take your pants off

- theres a lil table next to him with a bunch of equipment and stuff and its in his way so he just shoves it out of the way and it all goes flying

- but he needs his space and he needs You most importantly

- now

- i can't even say he thought about any sort of protection srry

- he fills you up quickly

- all the way in with one thrust

- doesn't give you time to adjust but you don't care

- "you are soaked, shit"

- he thrusts so hard the slapping sound of your bodies colliding is so loud

- and you are facing the OPEN DOOR to the room

- if someone walks by you're in so much trouble

- but truly you don't even care

- because hes fucking you so hard and so good

- and he's so big

- he hits all the right spots but also makes you bend over a lil more since he is in your guts

- and he's groaning and panting behind you

- his other hand is wandering around on your body

- he grabs your tummy, or your tits, or runs it down your back, buries it in your hair

- he moves it down to your clit after spitting ON HIS FINGERS and audibly too

- applies the most pressure when he's rubbing your clit in circles

- there is no way to conceal any of your moans it just feels so good

- you're both getting sweaty too fkjvnkfjv

- safe to say you finish relatively easily and fast

- he cums with you

- straight up just

- fills you up with his cum

- you can actually hear it filling you up its so dirty

- andrei finishes with the loudest groan

- it rumbles so deep in his chest it's almost a growl

- the change between horny andrei and afterwards... dramatic

- he turns you around and he looks completely different

- "you okay? I hurt you?"

- "what? no, that felt amazing"

- and he smirks yOU KNOW THE ONE

- takes a couple of steps back and leans against the wall behind him bc he's still out of breath and hot and sweaty

- but the whole time looking at you

- you both look over at all the stuff he threw on the ground

- he chuckles before turning back to you

- "made a mess, uh?"

helps you clean it up after you get dressed bc he feels bad and he's so embarrassed

i must also say you guys were not the last people at the rink.... little did you know marty decided to stay back too....but... did he hear anything?

#i melted #svechy <3

700 notes · View notes

rosiefridayrogersunday-reads · 2 years ago

Note

saw you were asking about requests and if that’s still the case: something hurt/comfort where the reader is comforting svech when he finds out he has have to surgery, and helping him through the recovery process.

either established relationship or a feelings realization maybe? whatever you’re most comfortable with.

In Five || A. Svechnikov

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov/Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Cursing (mild this time), sports injury (torn ACL/ligament), steamy kissing, bad proofreading, so much angst, but don’t worry there’s fluff at the end

A/N: I really tortured myself writing this. The emotions are still high, I hate the Bruins (sorry Bruins followers), and I hope you guys get all the feels as you read this. In all seriousness though, THANK YOU to whoever sent this in because it got me out of my writer’s block. (p.s. I’ve now opened requests to get me more inspired… so go submit stuff!!) anyways, I hope y’all enjoy 😁

It wasn’t bad. Not at first glance—at least that’s what you told yourself from the stands, clenching your fingers so hard they left nail indentations in the middle of your palms.

But you knew. You knew your best friend because you could read him like a book. Every twitch of the eye, a quirk of his lips, they all were a glimpse into his mind of what he was thinking. Andrei is your favorite book, and you just reached the chapter where everything starts to fall apart.

He was trying to hide it, the pain he was feeling from the quick stumble he took at center ice. It was just a small muscle pull, though, right? That’s what you thought, but then you saw him skate to the bench, favoring his right knee with the expression of one who knew he messed up.

Andrei played the rest of the game, but as you headed down to the locker room you couldn’t fight the feeling of dread steadily creeping up your heart.

“Hey,” you greeted a few of the girls leaning against the wall, waiting for their significant others to finish interviews. You were sort of an outcast in that manner, because Andrei wasn’t yours… No matter how much you wanted him to be. “Has he come out yet?” you asked.

The solemn shake of their heads gave you your answer, and you didn’t even bother trying to hide your worry when you leaned back against the wall with them, anxiously chewing your lip. The time came and went, seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to an hour of watching the other Hurricanes players come and go—none of them the man you wanted, no needed to see.

It was times like these where you questioned how you got here, waiting on Andrei like a girlfriend but being firmly stuck in the friend zone. He had never made you feel like anything less because of it, but you felt it aching in your very bones when he’d flash a smile to the girls at the bars you frequented, or when he’d ask you whether the blue shirt or the red shirt would look better on a date with the cute girl he met at a shopping mall.

It was funny, too, because you hadn’t met him any differently than he’s met the other girls he’s taken out. It was at a bar, actually, one in downtown Raleigh not too far of a drive from PNC Arena, and you were nursing a drink with a few friends from work when the place exploded in activity because players from the Carolina Hurricanes had just arrived.

You didn’t ask “who?” like one of your coworkers asked, because you loved hockey and went to a decent amount of games, and you could confidently answer which player had which number. In one game you’d even managed to snag glass seats, and that had been the best night of your life.

Never had you actually met any of the players, though. Odd, considering you had always made it a habit to go out at least once on the weekends, but one fateful Saturday night was when you finally were able to get a good look at the players outside of their hockey uniforms. You were content to merely watch them from a distance, but soon you realized they were just like any other regular bar patrons and soon lost interest in eyeing them a few tables back.

It was as you were ordering another drink that you caught from the corner of your eyes a body settling down on your right, too close to be convenient because there were other open seats far from you. You hadn’t been looking for a hookup that night, though, so you figured playing hard-to-get might ward off any men looking for a quick one-night stand.

“Hi,” the man suddenly spoke, accent too thick to be attributed to intoxication. A foreigner? You met his eyes, your gaze colliding with warm brown that reminded you of the hot chocolate you’d buy to keep your hands warm in the winter. “Drink not up to standards?” he said, leaning against the bar counter to get a better look at you.

Your brain had short-circuited, because wow this guy was good-looking, and it only took another minute of analyzing his features with your tipsy brain to realize you were talking to Andrei Svechnikov, or rather, he was talking to you.

“Not much of a drinker to begin with.” you had replied smoothly, shocking even yourself because talking to attractive men had never been a strong suit. “What about you? What do you drink?”

You and Andrei, who had later introduced himself and to which you responded with a cheeky quirk of your lips, “I know”, had hit it off immediately. You talked for hours that night, unable to shake the undeniable chemistry you had between you until one of your friends ran into you slurring her words and stumbling in place that signaled your outing time was up.

You exchanged numbers that night, and unbeknownst to either of you, your hearts were beating in tandem for days after, and brains spiraling with ‘what ifs’ and ‘I think they like me’. Unfortunately… It had never gone beyond that, because communication was hard to begin with for Andrei without the added challenge of having to speak English, and well–past relationships have made it a little hard for you to put your trust in people.

So, here you were. Confidently able to say that Andrei was one of your closest friends who you just so happened to be in love with, but knowing it would never go beyond that. You’d rather have Andrei in your life as a friend than not at all, right?

That’s what you told yourself when you finally heard the familiar sound of Andrei’s deep voice from the locker room, coming closer and closer as the distance between you decreased.

“No, no,” Andrei said, firmly, finally making his appearance. “No hospital. I feel fine.”

“Son, you’re favoring your knee. You need to go, now.” Head Coach Rod Brind’Amour marched in right behind the left winger. “I let you wait out the rest of the game, that’s what we agreed.”

Andrei remained in place, stubbornly glaring at the older man with the two looking like raging bulls getting ready to charge the other.

“‘Drei?” you finally found the courage to speak, hesitantly stepping forward and breaking the heated glare between the two men. You didn’t even notice until now that the athletic trainer was waiting behind them, phone held to his ear. “What’s going on?”

Immediately, the Russian’s eyes whipped towards you and he stepped back from Rod immediately. He said your name in slight confusion, even embarrassment at being caught in the metaphorical pissing match between him and his coach.

“I—” he licked his lips, struggling to find the words in English. “My knee. It is… Messed up.”

“Messed up?” you said. “What do you mean?”

That’s when Rod popped in. “He took a bit of a stumble on the ice, it didn’t look too serious at first but his knee is hurting.” He turned to glare at Andrei. “He can barely stand on it.”

Andrei clenched his jaw, attempting to shift his weight onto his right knee, but he could barely manage to stand before his face twisted up in pain and he had to use the wall to balance himself.

You stepped up to the Russian, worriedly wringing your hands together before stilling them to grab your stubborn friend's arm. “You’re too stubborn for your own good,” you smiled wryly, attempting to mask your worry with a small tease.

Andrei towered over you, but his size had always made you feel safe rather than scared, and that applied to now, roo. “I am fine, darling,” he murmured the pet name in Russian, his voice matching the softness of his eyes he could never hide when looking at you. Sometimes he’d speak in his native tongue in front of you because he knew you didn’t understand, and the scowl on your face afterward always made him laugh.

But, even though he was definitely not fine, he could barely take having to bother his teammates and coaches with his issues, nonetheless you. He didn't want you to see him so weak, at least not like this.

“My knee is just stiff. Sore.” he shot a look towards Rod, who up until this moment had been staring at the wall to give the two of you privacy. “It is not that bad, I am sure of it.”

“Then you’ll go to the hospital to get it checked out since it’s ‘not that bad’.” Rod deadpanned, finally breaking the bubble of tension that always seemed to surround you and Andrei when together.

“I agree with him, Andrei,” you said, placing another hand on his arm to gain his attention. “You need to get it looked at, at the very least.”

You gave him your best puppy eyes, peering up at him as he stood over you. You could see the hesitation on his face, knowing his protesting was mostly because he hated bothering others with his problems.

“If not for your career, do it for me?” you said, attempting to bring back his smile by poking him in the chest. “Please?”

A moment of silence, you staring at Andrei and Andrei staring at you…

“—fine.”

He agreed, but his knee was not fine as he said it was. It was bad because it wasn’t actually his knee that had been causing his pain, but rather a torn ligament connected to the knee that turned out to be the ACL in his right leg.

And Andrei was devastated. You weren’t allowed to be in the room with him while they checked him out because he needed an MRI, but Martin and Seth were and it was them who came up to you in the hallway, grim looks on their faces as they broke the news. You could hear the raised voices of both Andrei and Brind’Amour shouting from the room.

You couldn’t see Andrei’s face, but you felt your heart breaking for him anyways as the doctor probably told him how long his recovery would take, the physical therapy he would need to endure, and the amount of time he wouldn’t be able to play hockey for.

“Nine months,” Andrei said, angrily typing away on his phone to his brother, Evgeny, probably. “Maybe six if I am lucky.”

You remained silent, watching him from the kitchen counter at a loss for words. You had offered to drive Andrei home, unofficially taking on the role of caretaker since Martin lived with his girlfriend and Seth was, well… Seth.

Andrei was on the couch, dressed in an old Hurricanes hoodie with shorts, his right leg propped up on a stool wrapped in a temporary cast. His face was flushed, and his hair messy from all the times he had run his hands through it. You knew he was in pain, both mentally and physically, but it really was unfair how he still managed to look so attractive all throughout.

Leg cast and all included.

“Is that what the doctor said?” you asked, finally gaining the courage to speak as you crossed the room. You carefully sat on the couch next to him, not wanting to jostle his leg.

The Russian dropped his phone on his lap, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes before gazing at you with determination. “Yes. But I’m going to be better in five.”

You finally cracked a smile, there’s the ‘Drei you knew and loved, your first one since hearing the news and bringing him back to his house. Andrei couldn’t help but grin, feeling the fondness for you in his heart grow. You were so good to him, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep his feelings to himself while you stayed with him.

He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t mind having you stay with him for the rest of the year, though. Andrei was selfish, and he was also possessive, so he liked having you to himself. He considered Martin and Seth and Sebastian his good friends, his teammates, his bros if you will, but you were his. His best friend, his best girl—you were the only one he wanted, and maybe this new living situation would give him the opportunity to finally tell you.

Andrei just hoped you felt the same. He wouldn’t be able to stand losing you because he couldn’t keep his heart under control.

“Well, you know I’ll be here to help you get through it.” You stated with conviction, reaching over to give his hand a squeeze and your heart beating all the while.

You held your unspoken promise, especially on the day of his surgery a little less than a week after his prognosis. It was an early surgery on a Thursday morning, and you even called off work so you could be at the hospital with him when he woke up.

You already knew most of your friends and family were wondering why you were putting so much effort into caring for someone who was just a friend, and if you were being honest you didn’t have much of an answer to give them. They had a point after all, right?

You and Andrei were just friends. That was it. You may be in love with him (now more than ever), and you definitely omitted that little detail during past conversations, but still. Friends move in with each other to help recover from big injuries all the time.

This time with Andrei was no different, and you had to repeat this mantra over and over again in your head as the anesthesia slowly wore off and his eyes were so soft and droopy, mumbling his words and his accent was thicker than ever and your heart was beating so fast it was going to jump out of your chest–

“Thank you for being here with me,” Andrei slurred, gazing up at you with those warm, half-lidded eyes.

You grabbed his hand, gently, lacing your fingers together and squeezing once. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Andrei squeezed back once before losing consciousness, his eyes closing and his head lolling back against the pillow. “That’s normal, right?” You asked the nurse, who was busy writing on a clipboard. She only had to look up once to take in the situation before responding.

“Everyone responds to anesthesia differently. Your boyfriend is just one of many who has to sleep it off.”

You felt your stomach drop, your eyes widening only slightly at the nurse’s casual use of ‘boyfriend’. Of course, that’s what you and your best friend must have looked like to her, right? You, holding Andrei’s hand, and he gazing up at you like you hung the stars and the moon.

It was probably just the drugs in his system. Definitely.

Andrei was cleared to leave the hospital the next day, and you heard the news from the group chat you, Martin, and Seth were in. It was comically titled, ‘Andrei’s bobble-leg’, courtesy of Seth, of course, and it was essentially just the three of you coordinating who has Andrei duty on the days you weren’t able to be with him.

Unfortunately, the day he was able to go home was the day you had to be back at work, so Martin and Seth left their morning skate early to drive him home. And so, here you were now, finally off from work and driving down Capital Blvd road to Andrei’s home.

Martin, Seth, and surprisingly quite a few of the players were already there when you arrived. You knocked on the front door before letting yourself in, curiosity written all over your face as you walked closer to all the noise.

Happy shouts of your name rang across the room when you appeared in the doorway, and your face flushed red in embarrassment at all the eyes suddenly upon you. “Hey guys,” you said, eyes scanning around the room looking for the only man you really cared about.

Finally, you found him. Andrei was seated on his couch, leg safely propped up on the ottoman and wrapped in tight bandages and a brace. He had an Xbox controller in his hand, the video game he was previously playing on pause.

“How was work?” Sebastian asked from the right of Andrei, also holding a controller. There were several bags of chips laid out across the ottoman, and both men were currently snacking.

It was probably against their diet, but you weren’t going to be the one to tell them that, especially Andrei.

“Work,” you finally responded, rather dry. Most of the population, including you, unfortunately, were not lucky enough to play the sport they loved as their job.

A few chuckles and about an hour later, everyone began packing up to leave. Somehow, you had gravitated toward Andrei during this time of catching up with his teammates and ended up on the couch next to him, on his left. His arm was casually strewn across the back of the couch, fingertips playing with the ends of your hair and occasionally brushing against your neck, sending shivers up your spine.

You liked to pretend it was just you harboring feelings for him sometimes because it was less scary, but every day that fantasy was getting harder and harder to live… Especially when you would turn your head to catch a peek at his side profile, and he was already staring as if knowing the effect he had on you.

“How’s your leg feeling?” You asked once you heard the front door shut, signaling the exit of the last guest. It was silent other than the TV playing softly in the background, it having changed from Call of Duty to a rerun of Friends some time ago.

Andrei sighed, attempting to hide his emotional turmoil with a smile. Bringing his arm down from the back of the couch, he tentatively rested it on your shoulders, gauging your reaction before bringing you to his side. He’s been an affectionate person since you first met him, so you were used to the random hand-holding or hugs, but it still never failed to make you long for something more.

He patted his leg gently, careful not to disturb it from where it rested. “Hurts. But that is to be expected, no?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it can’t suck.” You said, your voice nothing more than a murmur. You rested your head against his shoulder, tugging at a loose string on one of your sleeves.

The hockey player didn’t respond, instead, he placed one of his big hands on your shoulder and squeezed, a sign he at least heard your attempt at reassurance. Time passed quickly like this; Friends continued playing, as did your position tucked into Andrei’s side.

You felt at peace, and while he didn’t say it with words you could tell the Russian beside you felt the same. Hopefully, the next few months of healing will just fly by.

And they did, at first. But even though the Carolina Hurricanes were missing one of their star players, the games must go on. His teammates went out on the ice, each and every one of them feeling Andrei’s absence keenly.

You felt it too, as the Boston Bruins scored their fourth and final goal of the night, winning the game in a shootout. The hope immediately dissipated within your chest and in rose frustration and disappointment to take its place, but you were sure that was nothing compared to what Andrei was feeling beside you.

The entirety of the game, your hand was wrapped in Andrei’s, his squeezing down when the Bruins scored their first goals in regulation and releasing to clap when we were finally able to tip the puck in. Then the team came back in the third period—you weren’t sure what Brind’Amour had said to the boys during the second intermission, but whatever he said had worked.

The Hurricanes had been controlling the puck in the Bruins’ zone, something they had failed to do in the first two periods. They were passing, aiming, shooting, scoring, first by Skjei in the corner of the net and then by Aho on a tight pass from Martinook that slipped right past Swayman’s shoulder.

It was looking so good because Andersen had finally gotten his head in the game and the defense had stepped up, but then we went past overtime scoreless, and then to the fateful shootout.

You had felt the anxiousness from every fan in the arena. If anyone was an avid Hurricanes watcher, including you, they knew shootouts had never been this hockey team’s strong suit.

Andrei’s frustration was palpable next to you. His left leg was bouncing up and down for the entirety, and you could see the muscles tensing and untensing in his right leg as if he had wanted to move. It only got worse when Brind’Amour sent Burns out first, something that had you, Andrei, and every single Hurricanes fan in the arena watching on in confusion.

“No, no,” you had heard the Russian mutter from next to you. “Why is he sending Brent? He needs to send Fishy, or Turbo—” the words then died in his mouth as Brent missed as everyone knew would happen, and sadly Teuvo, who went out next, did too.

Unfortunately for us, the Bruins had good goal-scorers. Coyle had slipped the puck past Andersen, as did DeBrusk, and then it was done. Game over. Just like that.

You finally turned to face the man next to you just as his head fell into his hands, tugging at his hair and messing up the gel you forced him to put on because no, Andrei, you can’t show up with bedhead. He was muttering words you couldn’t understand, most likely the creative Russian curses you heard him say on occasion.

If this game had been hard to watch for you, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how Andrei was feeling.

“‘Drei,” you said, tentatively. “Are you—”

“No. Don’t.” He snapped, rubbing at his eyes before unsteadily rising to stand. His right leg shook, but he refused the arm you held out and didn’t dare to look in your eyes to see what look they held. As he tried to reach for his crutches, his leg buckled from underneath him, and this time you ignored the hurt of him lashing out to put your arms around his back to steady him.

“Can we— Is it okay if…” he struggled to speak, his accent thick with emotion as he struggled to find the words. Andrei had never been good at communicating when upset, literally, because everything always came to him in Russian naturally, and this time was no different. “Leave? Can we leave?”

“What about—”

“No. No team. No reporters.” he said, digging his fingers into the back of his jersey you were wearing.

You softened, gently maneuvering your body so you could face him better. Now you were chest-to-chest, your arms still wrapped around his midsection to keep him steady. “What do you want then, Andrei?”

“Home,” he murmured. “Home. With you.” he wasn’t able to convey it right at this moment, but his heart was pounding as he said the words. To him, to anyone in his culture, this was the closest he could come to expressing his love without outright saying it.

He found he wasn’t scared about finally admitting this out loud, either, because you were his home. Everything about you was home because he wouldn’t dare let anyone else except his brother and mama see him so vulnerable.

Of course, you were oblivious. He normally found it cute, but right now he wanted to shake you because all he wanted right now was to hold you in his arms and kiss you as he found comfort in your presence.

“Okay,” you finally whispered, the double meaning of his words flying right over your head. But something emboldened you, gave you the courage to raise your hands to his shoulders so you could reach up and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, right next to the corner of his lips.

“Let’s go home, ‘kay?”

The ride home was silent, comforting even despite the rough loss the team took. By the time you finally managed to get to the car, the two of you were struggling to keep your eyes open and also keep your hands off each other. Andrei tangling your hands together, you gently leaning against his side…

It was all surface-level, neither wanting to speak the words out loud but yet not wanting to sacrifice the innocent, physical intimacy you found with each other. This was all racing through your mind the closer you got to Andrei’s house, and you were almost positive he was thinking the same.

Andrei, in fact, was actually contemplating the one-hundred different ways he was going to kiss you, if he ever gets to that stage with you. He was currently facing the window but left enough room at the corner of his eyes to take little peeks at you, only fuelling his determination to do something about the tension between you.

And, yeah, maybe he was hyperfixating on you to distract him from the fact his team lost and if he was down on the ice he knew he would have been able to fix it, been able to score. His emotions had skyrocketed since the game ended, and everything felt so much more intense than usual.

Maybe that was just the pain medication he was on, though…

After you finally arrived at Andrei’s house, it took a little bit over an hour to finally get yourselves ready for bed. The problem? Neither of you were ready for any sort of sleeping, and you both knew it.

Currently, Andrei was leaning back into the couch, his right leg once again propped up on the ottoman and a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lap. You were next to him, legs comfortably tucked underneath you with a few inches of space left between you and Andrei.

There was half a family-sized bag of Doritos in between you that he said was in his pantry, so you were both currently snacking on them while watching the NHL channel. It was quiet other than for the TV, for neither of you were speaking a word for fear of breaking the thick silence between you.

The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, and what made it even worse is that you didn’t think Andrei even noticed. He was wrapped up in his phone, most likely watching the game recap because his face was twisted up and his whole body seemed tense.

You shoved another Dorito in your mouth. Fuck. You were so, so screwed. You needed to get it together before you said something you regretted, especially since you had temporarily become his roommate.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and spoke. “Andrei?” you said, hesitantly looking towards him.

“What?” he responded after a moment, not taking his eyes away from his phone.

Now you felt uncomfortable. Before, in the arena, he was looking at you like he loved you, but now he was snappy and tense and worse than normal because his team lost without him being able to play.

Picking at the skin around your nails, you attempted scooting down the couch before just giving up and moving to stand. “Nevermind,” you said with a mutter, feeling withdrawn and defeated. If he didn’t want to open up to you, fine, but you didn’t deserve to have him take out his frustration on you.

At least, not like this.

Andrei didn’t even respond, furthering your feelings of bitterness towards the man you had so many feelings for. Wrapping your hands in the long sleeves of his hoodie you were still wearing, you shuffled down the hallway and into the guest room you claimed as your own.

You could still hear the TV playing in the background, but that was the only sound in the otherwise silent house. You blinked the frustration from your eyes and crawled underneath the bed sheets, scrolling on your phone until you fell into a dreamless sleep.

Hours passed of restless tossing and turning, and then suddenly it was three in the morning and you were being woken up by countless knocks on your door.

“The fuck?” you muttered sleepily, crawling out of the cocoon of blankets you were in to answer your door. For whatever reason, your sleep-addled brain wasn’t able to comprehend that it was probably Andrei on the other side. “Andrei?” you said, confused as the Russian leaned against the wall.

He looked rather sheepish, slightly embarrassed. His hair was ruffled, and the TV was still playing so he probably fell asleep on the couch.

“Oh, shit,” you said, suddenly realizing that he was probably here because he needed help. Of course. That was all it was. “I’m such an idiot, sorry,” you breathed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you stepped out of the room. “C’mon, I’ll help you get in bed.”

Andrei stopped you with a hand, opening and closing his mouth as he struggled to find words. “No, that is not it.” he finally settled on.

Okay, now you were curious. “Huh?”

“I am sorry.”

What?

“For what?” You asked, staring up at him wide-eyed. You were honestly too tired for a heavy conversation like this so you were struggling to keep up.

Andrei swallowed the lump in his throat. His leg was currently throbbing, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in his heart as he looked at you. Your hair was all over the place in the most endearing way, and your eyes were droopy in a way that told him you were just sleeping.

“For not treating you right, for—” He cut himself off, sighing in frustration. Why was English so complicated? If only you understood English. “English is stupid.” he muttered, then released a big sigh and steeled his resolve.

Stepping closer, he brought the two of you chest-to-chest and brought his arms to cage you against the wall.

And you, you meanwhile, let out the most embarrassing noise possible when he suddenly got close, and then Andrei was everywhere and nowhere all at once. His body was trapping you in, and while your senses were on overdrive you strangely enough didn't feel like fleeing.

“Andrei?” You squeaked, sinking further into the wall if it was possible. Your eyes dropped, finding the center of his chest to firmly set your gaze. His eyes were so dark, intimidating, and swimming with an intention you were nervous to find out. “What are you doing?”

“Look at me, please?” A large hand smoothed against your skin, gently tilting your head up. Your eyes automatically locked with his, and the emotion on his face had you gasping. “There’s my girl,” He said.

Okay, yeah, your body was frozen, the breath leaving your lungs in a torrent of sharp breaths. This… This was new territory, for the both of you, and you couldn’t help but wonder how Andrei looked so calm while you looked like a startled deer—an unattractive one, at that.

He started speaking, heart thundering while the words poured from his throat like warm, melted butter. “I’m in love with you. You are my person, I knew from the very first moment I saw you in that bar so many months ago. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but tonight, having you next to me… You’ve always been next to me, and I’ve taken advantage of that. Darling, I want to make up for all the times I never kissed you senseless, and I want nothing more than to have you as mine, and I yours.”

Your favorite music, your favorite voice, words so filled with emotion and yet you couldn’t even understand him as he looked at you like you were his sun, and he a plant desperately seeking your warmth. Andrei had only spoken in Russian a handful of times in front of you – most being curses or quips exchanged with Pyotr – and never had he spoken so much of it.

You’d always thought Russian was rather harsh. The sharp whistles, clicks of the tongue, hissing of certain words; you admired anyone who could speak it, but it had never been an easy language to listen to you. But, when Andrei spoke Russian… It was soft, almost musical, and expressive to the point you felt like you could understand the very subject at hand if you thought about it. Maybe you were just biased, but you swore you fell more in love with him every time he spoke it.

“No words?” he said, a grin on his face that made you realize you’d maybe been silent for a little too long.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You were breathless— literally.

“I show you, then, what I said,” Andrei brushed his fingers against the side of your neck, almost fully grasping it as he gently brought you closer. You had no complaints, though. “Yes?”

He said your name again, looking at you with those warm eyes so full of depth they hypnotized you and had you nodding yes, almost instinctively.

Andrei sucked in a breath, tightening his grip on you only slightly as he slid his hand around the back of your head. Your lips were slightly parted, shiny and red from where you’d been biting them previously, and that cupid’s bow that always drove him crazy when you smiled was quirked upwards as if it was asking him to kiss you.

He waited a moment, stared into your eyes, his fingers merely a whisper of a touch against your cheek, and finally took the leap. The first touch of his lips was shy, testing, but then you whimpered with need and tugged at his shirt to bring him closer and Andrei had an internal moment of fuck it where he realized just how crazy he was for you. Pressing you into the wall, he nipped at your bottom lip and was granted entrance with a gasp drowned out by the sound of his own groan. He put every ounce of his passion and love and relief into this kiss as if trying to convince you to stay because this, this here? It was worth it—you were worth it. Fireworks, electricity, butterflies, and everything all at once was igniting in your gut and caused you to let out a pathetic whimper the moment your lips finally detached. He was clearly skilled at this, wholeheartedly controlling the moment as his lips left a trail of kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin that met your collarbone.

“‘Drei,” you gasped, clutching the hair right at his scalp – when did you move your arms around his neck? – as he sucked a mark under your jaw. “Hm?” he hummed, not stopping with his ministrations.

“What,” you said, throat dry and raspy as you tried to speak over the sound of your beating heart. “What did you say— oh,”

Andrei’s grin was almost feral as he drew the beautiful sound from your lips. “Found it,” he said, voice full of pride as he brushed his fingers against the newly-found sweet spot on your neck.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed his head in between your hands, bringing his head to yours so you could press a quick, affectionate kiss to his lips before pulling back to gather your thoughts because you had a lot of them.

Andrei pouted the moment you pulled him away but respected your boundaries and merely rested his hands on your waist to keep you close. He said your name gently, his tone bordering on questioning. “Did I… Did I push too far?” he said.

“No, no, not at all,” you rushed to correct him, already having caught the guilt in his eyes. “I just want to know what you said earlier, before you— you know.” It felt almost taboo to say ‘before you kissed the life out of me’, not wanting to break this delicate balance you found yourself in.

The Russian hummed, already catching on to your bashfulness and deciding to tease you for it. “No, darling, I think you need to remind me,” he brought a hand up to loosely wrap around your neck, the contact keeping you grounded. “On what I did before what?”

“Andrei,” you said, immediately dropping eye contact as your face flushed red. “You’re being a tease,” you muttered.

He dipped his head, brushing your lips together as he spoke. You felt his breath against your skin and had the sudden desire to taste him again. “I can do this all night, but the question is can you?”

You gave up at that because the moment he spoke he drew back and you couldn’t stand the feeling of not having him close to you anymore. “Andrei,” you sucked in a breath. “What did you say before you kissed me? In Russian?”

“I love you,” Andrei didn’t miss a beat as he crept his other hand farther up your waist. “That is mostly what I said. And more.”

“More?” you squeaked out as he drew closer.

The hockey player hummed, then suddenly stepped back and grabbed your hand. “Much more,” he confirmed. “Now—bed?” Short, sweet, and to the point Andrei always was…

Just one of the many things you loved about him.

Twenty minutes later you lay in Andrei’s bed, swallowed in another one of his shirts, and curled into his chest. His arm was wrapped around your waist, stroking gentle circles into the skin exposed to the room. It was silent, null except for the steady hum of the air conditioning and the gentle breathing of two humans reveling in each other’s presence.

“I miss it,” he said, suddenly speaking up. You lifted your head only slightly from his chest, already missing the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. “Hockey. And I miss playing with my brothers.”

Brothers. Your heart broke at hearing the longing in his voice, because every single player on the team he played with was his family, in one way or another, and now he was being forced to watch them play the sport he had no chance of helping them win.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he was feeling.

“I know, Andrei,” was what you finally settled on. Your voice was soft, gentle, trying to convey your understanding with actions rather than words. You drew tiny circles on his chest, taking pride in the way goosebumps rose in your fingers’ wake. “I know.”

He tightened his grip on you, holding you closer to him as if he were afraid you’d disappear. “Will you be here?” he suddenly asked, frowning. Andrei knew he was being slightly irrational, feeling so vulnerable, but he really hadn’t felt secure in himself since first tearing his ACL.

What was his purpose in life, really, if not to play hockey and have you with him?

You hadn’t yet spoken, so he quickly clarified. “In the morning. And all the mornings after.”

A smile broke across your face as you buried your head into his chest. You felt the rumble of his chest as he chuckled, and then he shifted to where you were laying on top of his chest so he could see your face. “All the mornings, huh?” you asked, feeling bashful.

Andrei grinned, his tongue poking out from behind his teeth, knowing the effect he had on you. “Every one,” he replied. “If you will have me.”

“There’s nothing I want more.”

And you meant it, truly, with every fiber of your being. The next months were going to be rough, the ones where you’d have to be there for Andrei as he watched his team ultimately compete and fall through in the playoffs especially.

But you knew the two of you could do it. Andrei was nothing if not committed, even through all the arguments, tears, and emotional breakdowns, you were there for each other through the long haul.

And Andrei, meanwhile, after many difficult months down the road, had the biggest smile on his face as the doctors told him it was a miracle.

Because he had healed from his ACL injury in five.

fin

A/N: Before my medical professionals come at me, YES I KNOW acl injuries take up to a year to recover from almost all of the time, but for the sake of this fic just pls ignore that little fact 😭 in all seriousness though, I can’t wait till our favorite Russian gets to play again bc I miss him sm. As always, please leave likes, reblogs, and comments. Ily all <33

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