#Brady skjei blurb

[comphy-and-cozy]

The After Party

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

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

Word Count: 6.3K

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

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

“You look hot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Brady?”

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

“What are you doing here?” 

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

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

“You two know each other?”

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

“Brady and I…”

“We used to—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Andrei…”

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

“Did he make you come?”

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

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

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

“Made her scream quite a bit, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

And somehow, the second option seems much more appealing.

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

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

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

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

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

“It is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always look so pretty when you come.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m –” you pant, “I’m c-close.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SIMILAR CONTENT:

Sundress Season

Glittery

A Night in Paris

Midnight Rain (blurb)

[behoright]

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

kids night with fiancé! brady

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

hahahhaha sooo

basically

you guys have been dating FOREVER

recently engaged tho

you had the most beautiful proposal

stuff from your dreams

brady is the sweetest man but honestly

he's wild in the bedroom

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

you guys are veeery private about it

usually no public sex or anything like that

because he likes to have his space and privacy to

literally say and do the nastiest shit to you

and not have to worry about it

he's very good at hiding his arousal in public

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

he'll just play it cool until you get home

we will say this

brady loves the shit out of you

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

the only reason he took a while to propose is

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

he feels the same about your wedding

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

take as long as you both need with the planning

he has very much big heart eyes for you

and yes

he does dream about seeing you pregnant or as a mom

he thought about it beforehand but

it took him by surprise when it SPIKED after the engagement

seeing that ring on your finger just does something to him

he dreams about the most domestic shit

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

or in bed rubbing your belly

he's actually been dreaming about it

a lot

and he's very overwhelmed by it

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

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

lowkey scared of putting pressure on you

so he's shhh

but uh kids night rolls around

and seeing you mess around with the kids

or hold TWO babies at once

feed them a bottle oof

the fantasies plague him all day long

he's so disconnected and people notice

especially you

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

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

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

what if one day you guys have twins

two baby boys that would look ju-

THE GAME FOCUS FOCUS

during the surge tbh

yes there's many kids around but

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

looks at you ALL THROUGHOUT

does not break eye contact with you from the ice

everyone notices it

you squirm a lil in your seat sjkdfkjdc

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

his tongue deep in your mouth

while he grinds up into you

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

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

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

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

and that's when it happens

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

he's so taken back

his eyes, widen. pupils huge

and his whole face and chest get red and splotchy

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

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

"yeah? is that okay? not weird?"

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

his head in the crook of your neck

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

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

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

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

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

sweat dripping from his hair and forehead

eyes are squeezed shut bc

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

his cock starts twitching inside you

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

he fucking LOSES IT

legs tense

they TWITCH

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

and he sees stars

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

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

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

"did you like that brady?"

"I'm so dizzy"

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

bc he's so sweaty and lightheaded

new kink unlocked and he might um

attempt to speed up the wedding a lil bit

just to get to the next chapter of your life teehee

[ladylooch]

I cannot stop thinking about waking up the morning after a long night full of very steamy sexual activities with Brady, and him just being so sweet and affectionate like isn't it the cutest

I'm down bad for Brady Skjei

A/N: This is a productive use of your brain capacity. I approve! I totally agree there is something about him that is... just... HOT. Like, fuck me sideways HOT.

I immediately went to a night after you tried some experimental things in the bedroom. Like maybe it was a little rough and wild, but tbh use your imagination. He wakes up and wants to make sure you’re okay/don’t have regrets. 

Word Count: 536

Warnings: Implied smut, swearing

Fingers rub along the bare skin of your abdomen on a Winter morning in North Carolina. It’s cold this morning, even below freezing, and the chill coming from the windows seeps beneath the sheets, puckering your skin. The feather light touches aren’t helping either. A shiver rolls down your spine and you slide back, pushing your butt further into the hips behind you.

A soft grunt of appreciation moves your hair. Those fingers on your abdomen run up further, then dance across the Hurricanes logo on your chest. 

“Wake up.” Brady murmurs. 

“I’m up.” You say back to him. Your voice sounds shy even to your ears. Probably because of the various touches Brady’s fingers remind you of. Words and noises and positions happened last night that you’ve never done together before. Ignited by two bottles of red wine and a bubble bath, you two indulged in each other well into the early hours of this morning. As if on cue, a dull ache settles between your legs as you move to stretch your calves. 

“Good, I miss you.” He says against the back of your neck. He moves your hair away, letting his generous lips wet the surface. He presses into your stomach so he can enjoy the friction of your cheeks against him. “Last night…” He trails off with a moan.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You gonna let me do those things to you again?” His teeth scrape against your shoulder. Your eyes close, melting further into his body with a content sigh.

“Mmm, depends?”

“On?” His voice is desperate.

“If you make me bacon for breakfast.” He smiles, like it’s easy. Then his grin falls in despair.

“We don’t have any in the fridge.”

“Freezer?” You’re hopeful, wishing you had thought of something you knew you had like coffee.

“Maybe, but if we don’t I’ll run to the store.” You laugh at the determined look that takes over his face. 

“Mmm, I don’t know if that’s going to work.”

“Babe.” He whines, almost choking on his breath. “Don’t do this to me.” Your body shakes with your laughter.

“You’re so weak, Skjei.”

“I’ll be anything you want me to be if it means I get to have all of that again.”

“Start with the bacon.” You joke, rolling to get off the bed. You stretch your arms above your head, a moan coming from your throat at the feeling of your muscles releasing. Brady rises too, watching the way your shirt rides up, giving him little peaks of skin. 

“Hey.” He stops you with a hand around your hip at the bedroom door, nudging his thick thigh in front of you to halt your progress. He leans his forehead close to yours, looking deep into your eyes. “Last night was okay?”

“Way better than okay, Brads.” You confirm, pressing your mouth to his. His hands glue you to his body. “I want all of that with you again.” He grins, pleased with your respond.

“Later. But first, bacon!” He cheers, ducking down to throw a shoulder into your thighs, tossing you so you hang down his back. You smack his ass hard as he moves down the stairs, your hair dragging across the carpeted stairs with each bounce.

[writingonleaves]

remember thinking that i got this right - brady skjei

pairing: brady skjei x original female character

warnings: swearing, slight angst, fluff, not proofread

title: “lie to me” by 5 seconds of summer

word count: 2.4k

author’s note: lie to me is my most played song of all time, therefore, i decided to write this in two hours. it’s different than my usual. i think i’m happy with it. hope you all enjoy and lmk what you think!!

*****

Monet Shemer has got to be hallucinating.

There’s no way, as she’s drinking a Downeast, that Brady fucking Skjei is at the same East Village dive bar as her right now.

She blinks three times, even looks away, taking a hefty drink of her cider. But nope, it’s him. And it’s just her luck that he catches her eye this time. She seems him physically react, and before she knows it, she watches him excuse himself from the group he’s with and walk over to where she’s sitting. All Monet can do is watch him as he approaches, eyes scanning over his gray t-shirt, his salt and pepper hair and his eyes that, to her, have always held a distinct sparkle.

It’s been three years since she’s seen him this close in person. It feels like yesterday.

“Hi Moe,” he says, slipping into the seat next to her and placing his beer on the countertop.

“Hey.”

“Small world, huh?”

A bit too small, in Monet’s opinion. She laughs nervously. “Seems like it.”

“Are you here alone?”

She shakes her head, nodding to her two friends out on the dance floor, one of who is grinding against another girl right now. “Girl in the pink dress and black dress are my coworkers. You?”

“Remember Mike Reilly?” She looks over his shoulder and can’t help but grin at the familiar face, as well as a few others from their University of Minnesota days. “He’s getting married next week in Long Beach.”

“Good for him,” she says genuinely.

“Yeah,” Brady swallows. “It’s been awhile.”

“Three years.”

“Three years.” He repeats softly, and the look in his eyes has Monet taking another big sip of her cider. “Has it really been that long?”

“Yup.” Because what else can Monet really say? It’s been three years since she left this very city heartbroken, when a weekend trip watching Brady play at Madison Square Garden had turned into a teary-eyed breakup that had her crying on the whole flight back to Chicago. Three years since she’s been in a relationship that’s meant anything to her.

And fuck, it hurts so much more now, with him in front of her, because she knows that it didn’t affect him the same. They still have mutual friends back from college. She knew he started dating someone six months after they broke up.

(She also knows that they broke up over a year ago. But that doesn’t really mean anything.)

“How have you been?” Brady asks, and he asks it so earnestly that Monet can’t even get annoyed. “You work in New York now?”

She bites her lip at the underlying question in his voice. “Yeah. Same company as before. Just transferred offices and a different sector.”

“When?”

“When what?”

“When did you move out here?”

She hesitates. “A few months before COVID.”

She watches the realization settle on his face. He was still playing for the Rangers then. “And you didn’t reach out?”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t feel inclined to reach out to the person who broke my heart.”

His breath hitches and Monet is slightly satisfied. Good. He closes his eyes for a second. “You know that I didn’t mean to.”

“That doesn’t mean it hurt any less.”

“I guess not,” he breathes out. “I meant every word I said that night, Moe. I really am sorry that it turned out the way it did.”

Now Monet feels guilty at her sudden coldness, because it had been mutual and Brady had seemed distraught about it at the time. She smiles weakly. “How have you been? You like Raleigh?”

Brady shrugs. “I do. The guys are great. We’ve been making playoffs consistently. I can’t complain too much. Not as many options for coffee as here though.”

Monet snorts before she can stop herself. “You finally branched out of your go-to Starbucks?”

He laughs and Monet feels her heart breaking at the sound. “Busted. I’m trying to.”

“Uh huh. You know their cold brew is disgusting.”

“And the sugar-filled frappacinos you got were any better?” He smirks as she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“You don’t get to be a coffee snob to me when all you like is beer.” She knows it’s a weak retort, considering she’s drinking a cider and the IPA in his hands is actually one of her favorites.

And he knows it too, as he snorts. He takes a sip without breaking eye contact, and it makes her stomach warm. Three fucking years later and he still has this effect on her. “You look beautiful,” he says softly.

She snorts. “I did come here straight from work, so that’s definetly not true. But thanks.”

“You always had the ability to make anything look stunning.”

Monet squeezes her eyes shut, because fucking hell, he can’t just say shit like that. “Brady.”

“I’m sorry,” at least he looks apologetic. “That was out of line.”

“It was,” she says. She feels suffocated. She needs to get out of here. Where are Carey and Emma?

To her luck, they suddenly appear right in front of her. Carey’s holding Emma up by the shoulders with a grimace. “Hey, I think I’m gonna take this one home.”

Monet can’t help but chuckle. “You need help?”

Carey waves her friend off. “Nah, I’ll make sure she gets in her apartment.” How nice it must be to live in the same building as one of your closest friends. Carey unsubtely eyes Brady, who’s looking at Emma in mild concern. Stupid Brady and his good manners. “Hi. I’m Carey.”

“Brady.”

Monet sees the flash of recognition come across Carey’s face. Carey’s never met Brady, but she knows enough. “You good to get back on your own, Moe?”

“Yeah.”

Carey looks between Monet and Brady. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She appreciates her friend’s concern, but it’s not needed. Brady is a lot of things. Inconsiderate isn’t one of them.

Carey nods as Emma’s head lolls on her shoulder. “See you around, maybe?” She directs towards Brady.

“Hopefully,” Brady says with a smile. Monet tries not to read into that as she eyes her friends’ backs. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. She just needs to sleep it off. She got dumped last week.”

“Ah,” Brady nods in understanding. “That’s never fun.”

She clears her throat. “You should get back to your friends.” Once upon a time, Monet may have even considered some of them their friends. But that was before.

He waves her off. “They’re fine without me.”

She traces the rim of her glass. “What do you want, Brady?”

He looks a bit hurt, though with a hint of understanding. “I-I thought I was seeing things earlier when I saw you. But then I realized it was really you and I just, I don’t know. I couldn’t not talk to you, you know?” His gaze drops to the bottle in his hands. “Do you hate me?”

Monet is taken aback by that. She didn’t think it was in Brady to get vulnerable in a random dive bar on a Friday night. When they were younger, it took a lot for Brady’s voice to reach this level of trembling.

But that’s just it. When they were younger.

“No,” she admits. “No, I don’t. I don’t think I ever could.”

“You should,” he whispers. “Sometimes I still do for pushing you away three years ago.”

“Then why did you never reach out?” She flashes back to those months after, endless nights donimated by tears, what-ifs flooding her brain and mornings where she wished she was still his.

“I don’t know,” he clasps his hands together, laying them on the table. “I almost did a couple of times. But I always stopped myself. I guess…I guess I convinced myself that since I was the one pushed you away that I couldn’t be the one to reach out first.”

“So it’s because you were too proud?” She sees him swallow and not respond. She sighs.

“I know, I know,” his shoulders deflate. “Why did you never reach out?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“You were wrong.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

Silence falls between them, the sounds of Bruce Springsteen echoing through the crowded bar. She watches him pick at his nails and has an urge to cover her hands with his so that he’ll stop.

“I miss you,” she blurts out. Brady lifts his head up to meet her gaze immediately. She forges on. “I wish I didn’t. I mean, three years, right? That’s kind of pathetic. But I do. Miss you, that is. Even as just a friend.” She laughs humorlessly. “I even tagged along with Emma last season to a game at MSG when the Rangers were playing the Canes. I never intended on reaching out, but I just wanted to see you play.”

“Moe.”

“I don’t expect you to feel the same,” she says firmly. Or as firmly as she can with a frog in her throat. “And I mean that. I’m me. And you’re you. I get it.”

“Don’t say that.”

She shrugs. “I’m not saying anything that-”

“I mean it,” Brady says fiercely, a fire in his eyes that used to only appear when he was really passionate about something. “Monet, you’re-you’re spectacular. You’re kind to everyone. You’re incredibly smart. You always put others before yourself. You’re the best person I’ve ever met. Still to this day.”

Now her eyes start watering. “That’s…uh, thank you. That’s really nice of you to say.”

He chuckles, shaking his head at her slightly with a fond look on his face. “You just proved my point.” The smile drops as he leans forward, serious expression on his face. “I miss you too. I still-I still think of you everytime I see lilies. Or when we play in Chicago, though I guess you’re here now. My grandma still asks about you and gets very dissapointed when I don’t have any updates outside of your Instagram. When I go back home, I always picture you sitting at the back porch with my mom talking about the books you’ve both been reading. I could go on.” He lets out a deep breath to center himself. “My point is, is that I don’t think I could ever love someone the way I loved you. And I tried. Fuck me, I tried. But no one ever came close.”

Somewhere deep down, Monet knew a confession like this was coming. He would’ve walked away from this conversation right at the start otherwise. Her heart hurts, realizing how much they still know about each other. She stares down at her hands, biting her lip as he tentatively puts one of his over hers. She doesn’t pull away.

“So now what?” Monet whispers. “We both miss each other. We…I’m here and you’re in Raleigh.”

He snorts. She wonders if he’s thinking the same thing — that one of the main factors that drove them apart was because she had been working in Chicago and he was in New York, where she is now. But he’s not here anymore.

“It’s not ideal,” he says.

“When has it ever been?” She shoots back.

“Remember when you came out to New York and the night before you were supposed to leave, I convinced you to change your flight so you could stay a few extra days?”

She blinks at the abrupt topic change. “Yeah. That was, like, one of the times I skipped class. You were a bad influence.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs with a light smile. “I remember the next morning, watching you sleep and thinking that I got this right. Somehow, I had the dream of playing hockey for a living and I had the perfect girl next to me. After we broke up, I didn’t know if I’d be able to have that again. But you’re here telling me that maybe there’s a chance. I’m not letting that go.”

Something about that and the way he says it makes her intertwine their hands as she gives his hand a squeeze.

“Brady, I don’t know if I can do it again,” she says. “I don’t know if I can put myself through all of that if the outcome could be…this. What the last three years were to me.”

“It’ll be different this time,” he says confidently. “We’re both older. A bit wiser. It’ll be different.”

“But you don’t know that.”

“Maybe,” he repeats. “But I’ve missed you. I love you. That has to count for something, right? Please let it count for something.”

Monet swallows. Love? Missing is fine, but love? That’s not something to just throw around.

(And the thing is, she knows that he knows that. He’s not throwing it around just to do so)

“Do you remember what you got me for our third anniversary?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Uh, the framed pressed flowers?”

Of course he remembers. Her lips quirk up. He had gone somewhere to press flowers from bouquets that he had gifted her in the past. It’s still the msot thoughtful present she’s ever received.

“Yeah.”

“What about them?”

“I still have it hung up in my living room.”

The confession has Brady’s eyes gleaming. “Let me take you out to dinner, please.” He pleads gently.

One second. Then two. And then: “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She nods, a smile threatening to spill out her lips. “Yeah. Okay. Are you around tomorrow night?”

“Yes,” he responds quickly.

She laughs at his eagerness. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Even if I had plans, it doesn’t matter now.”

“Brady.”

He shrugs with a light smirk. “What?”

She just rolls her eyes. She bites her lip, one more question burning through her mind. “And after?”

“Hm?”

“After. If it goes well.” The “if” is hilarious, because she and him both know it will. “I’m here and you’re going back to Minny for the off season, I assume. And then you’re back down in Raleigh.”

“We’ll work it out.” He says it so confidently that Monet can’t help but believe him.

Monet takes one last look at him. He stares at her so lovingly and rubs his thumb over hers.

(The next night, when she opens the door of her apartment with Brady, looking incredibly handsome in a white button-up with lillies in his hands, she lets herself go and kisses him.

He’s right. They’ll work it out.)

[nhlmcfilthy]

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

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

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

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

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

He slowly strokes your arm or plays with your hair

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[midnightsnyx]

YAY! Could you please write skjei and reader having their first dumb fight that escalates? Maybe reader says “why do you care so much what I do?” and he says “because I love you!” and they both realize it’s not worth fighting over? Idk if that makes sense 😂

Hi! Sorry, I was away for the weekend. Thank u for the request!! I know this is super short but I hope you like it <3 blurb & instagram edit requests are open.

The first real argument between you and Brady happens about 6 months into your relationship. Your hours at the hospital were getting longer due to a staffing issue so you were working a lot of overtime and Brady was worried you were overworking yourself. You knew he was just worried about you but you loved your job and didn't want to admit that you'd bitten off more than you could chew. So, when he suggests you take some time off you get defensive.

"Why do you care so much about this?" you snap, crossing your arms defensively. You've been arguing for the better part of an hour and you're both getting tired of it so his next words aren't what you are expecting.

"Because I love you!" he shouts and freezes, clearly surprised by his own words. Neither of you says anything for a moment, both taking in his sudden confession.

Those three words haven't been said by either of you yet, mainly because you both showed your love in different ways. Him, bringing you your favorite drink during a busy shift. You, cheering him on even during the losses. There are a million and one ways to say I love you without words and the two of you did it all the time.

You respond by dumbly asking, "really?" and when he smiles, suddenly this whole fight seems so pointless and all you want to do is walk over and kiss him.

"Yeah," he says, walking towards you until he's standing in front of you. He brushes a piece of loose hair from your face and his hand lingers, stroking your cheek before dropping it. "I've been wanting to say that for a while."

Your soft me too, breaks whatever tension is left between you two, and when he kisses you, you completely forget why you were fighting in the first place.

[just-dino-maggie]

prompt #10 with andrei svechnikov?

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like it!

10. Swimming at night

Working as a trainer with the team is hard. Being so young it took time to build trust but now that I have, things can get draining. A lot of the young guys depend on me. Not only for their physical health but sometimes their mental health. I’m happy to do it, I love my job but sometimes I need a break. Time to relax and focus on what I want.

The hurricanes are on a west coast road trip. It’s the longest one we go on and being away from my bed has sucked. Tonight I’m laying in a hotel bed, it’s too early to fall asleep but I definitely don’t want to go out. Then it clicks, I should go to the pool. It might technically be closed but I don’t mind.

I thank my past self for packing a swimsuit. I throw it on along with a cover up and some sandals. I make my way down the stairs to the outdoor pool. I don’t waist time throwing my things on a pool chair and jumping in the water. It’s perfect.

I swim a few laps for the exercise then I allow myself to float on my back. I look up at the stars. The palm trees frame my vision. It’s so incredibly peaceful.

After a few minutes of floating and looking at the stars I hear the door to the outdoor pool open. I look over and Andrei is putting his towel on the chair next to mine. He’s gorgeous, anyone could see that. He all man. Tall, muscular, and chiseled. I swim toward him and cross my arms over the side of the pool. “Why aren’t you out with the guys?”

“I didn’t feel up to it tonight.” He says easily shrugging his shoulders. His accent is music to my ears. It has lessened since I met him but it’s still strong.

I smirk, “You’re only 23 and you are already tired of going out? How can that be?”

“Y/n, you’re 22 and you’ve never liked going out.” He responds simply, walking toward me and easing himself into the pool.

I blush. It’s kinda sweet that he notices those kinds of things about me. “Touché,” I reply. I turn around so my back is up against the pool wall and I turn to look at Andrei. “Do you do this a lot?” He furrows his eyebrows as if he’s confused by the question. “Swimming in the hotel pools at night.”

“When I have time I try to. It’s nice.” He says looking at me with those dazzling eyes.

I glance back at the stars, “Do you ever have those weirdly particular experiences that you just really want to do?”

“I think I know what you mean.” He contemplates, “tell me yours.”

“I want to spend winter at a lake house, hopefully in Michigan. I want to swim in the ocean at night.” I pause blushing, thinking of something I shouldn’t have.

He pokes my arm, “What’s that look?”

“I want to make out with someone in the rain or in water. Like a lake, pool, ocean. I know it’s dumb but I always thought it was so romantic.”

He nods then goes quiet, I feel like an idiot. The other guys over share with me a lot so sometimes I forget to have a filter. “Maybe we could do some of them together. Swimming in the ocean at night seems fun.”

“Yeah, maybe we could!” I say smiling.

He looks away from me for a second, “I could also help with the other one.”

“You know a lake house in Michigan we could stay at?”

He chuckles and brings himself closer to me. “I was talking about the other one.”

I realize what he’s insinuating and I blush deeply. This would be very unprofessional of me and honestly stupid but I’ve been working on separating myself from work. Doing things that I want to do because I want to do them. And right now the number one thing I want to do is kiss Andrei Svechnikov.

“Are you sure?” I ask, putting my arms around his neck.

He grabs my legs and wraps them around his waist, “Yep.” Then his lips are on mine. He’s not shy, he’s pushing me up against the pool wall and his hands are all over me. I can tell he’s more experienced. I certainly don’t mind I just hope I’m keeping up.

Soon enough his hips are rutting against mine and his groans are undeniable. I pull back to try and slow things down but his lips goes straight to my neck. Now I’m arching into him.

When he pulls back to look at the work he’s done to my neck I can see him smirk. “We should stop.” I say because I know we have to, or I’ll do something I can’t take back.

“Yeah, we probably should. I don’t want to.”

I smile and push his arm, “You’re not helping.”

He laughs but holds my hips, not letting me go just yet. “What if I don’t want this to be a one time thing? I like you.”

I pause for a second thinking about what he just said. I should be professional, he’s a co-worker. But he’s also just a guy that I find attractive, maybe it wouldn’t hurt. “I like you too, maybe we could meet tomorrow for coffee?” I say with butterflies in my stomach.

He presses his lips to mine once again, “perfect.”

[hattywatch]

J. Vesey - July For the Whole Year Ch. 1

A/n: Hello all! It's been a while, but I'm still lurking about. I heard that Jimmy was back on the table for the Rangers a few months ago and started this, with endgame in mind that he'd be back and NOW HE IS. I decided to do chapters so it's easier to consume. We're clocking about 35 pages currently. It's about 90% completed, so the subsequent chapters should be up fairly quickly. This is 100% self-serving. I wanted a disgustingly long will-they-won't-they, friends to lovers, so I had to do it my damned self. Stop by, say hi, stay awhile; I read all comments, tags, messages etc- so don't be shyyyy!) Please check out my Masterlist (I finally made one!) if you want some more content :)

_______________________________

August 2017

“PIVOT!” a decidedly male voice shouts from down the hall. You almost laugh, but it’s 8am on a Saturday and you don’t really want to commit to being fully awake quite yet. 

“Dude, that was not funny 2 floors down, and it’s even less funny now-” still male, but another voice answers back. 

It seems like Stella, the building manager, has finally found someone to let the large three-bedroom at the end of the hall. It’s been vacant for the whole summer, which was nice. The floor only has 2 other 1 bedroom apartments, so it’s been you and Mr.Callahan for the better part of 3 months. He’s a septuagenarian and hardly makes any noise, so it's been akin to having the entire 4th floor to yourself and it's been too short-lived for your taste. To say you were delighted when the last tenants moved out is an understatement. You haven’t had to vie for the elevator, wake up to any loud music, or have a sneezing fit- which aroused your suspicion of a contraband feline residing nearby. You’re sad to have it come to an end, but maybe they’ll quiet down once they move in. 

Rolling over, you wedge your face in between your pillows, successfully blocking the sound and falling back into a gentle doze. 

______

Two weeks later, you’re sitting on the rooftop deck, lounging like a dog in the sun, sipping an iced-coffee from the cafe down the street and reading a magazine when the rooftop door opens to a boisterous duo, mid-conversation. 

“Brady will do it again this year. You watch. No way he retires, he’s got too much left in him. Guy’s an animal-” they’re both tall, but the sandy haired one is loud, clearly from Boston- his R’s dropping at the end of his words, making “Year,” sound wrong to your ears, attuned for New York City. 

“I’m not doubting him, man. He’s just getting up there,” they sit at the table next to you, clad in swim-suits, clearly about to use the pool- the paint is chipped and worn, but the water is crystal blue and chlorinated enough that even the unwashed masses of the city can’t sully it. The small pool is your favorite perk of the aged building.

Hiding your eyes behind your sunglasses, you size them up. They're young, likely in their twenties and they're both fit as hell, thick and muscled. Not a bad sight, but you'd hate to leer, so you go back to your magazine, only half paying attention to the chatter next to you as it moves from sport to sport before they finally walk towards the water.

It's cold, you know it's freezing, which is why you’ve chosen to tan and not float around in the water. One of the kids in the building had an accident in it last weekend; it had to be drained and cleaned and it hasn't had the time to warm up yet. It seemed almost silly to refill it now, since there's barely two weeks left of summer, but who are you to complain?

“Jesus Christ!” You can’t really hold back the laughter even though you try, so a choked snort makes its way out despite your best efforts. The sandy haired one is only in the water up to his knees and the darker haired one hasn’t even started his descent down the pool steps yet, and you don’t want to be the creep eavesdropping and gawking, so you pull your magazine up a little higher over your face to hide. 

“You could have warned us! It’s fuckin’ ice cold,” he retreats up the steps and sits back in his chair on the deck. “I’m Kevin, I just moved here. This is Brady.” Kevin sticks his hand out to shake, and you drop Cosmopolitan onto the wire table in front of you to meet his grip. 

His handshake is strong and warm. “Here, New York, or here, this building?” you ask after giving him your name. Brady leans in after Kevin, hand outstretched, so you shake his too. 

“This building. I’ve been in New York a couple-a years now. But we just moved to this building a few weeks ago. We’re down on 4; us and our buddy Jimmy.” You nod and tell him you’re on 4 too, but then his phone rings and it’s Jimmy and he has pizza. They invite you down to eat, but you decline, wanting to soak up as much summer as possible before the weather turns biting and fall’s crisp air rolls into the city. 

“Nice to meet you! We’ll see you around. Don’t be a stranger!” They wave jovially as they continue through the rooftop door. They seem nice enough. Saving your magazine from the condensation sweating down your coffee cup, you pick up where you left off - “How to Find a Normal Dude on a Dating App,” and wonder how they can possibly pass the same garbage off as something new each month.

______

It’s 2 o’ clock in the morning, according to the glance you give at your way-too-bright phone, and you hear the scraping of a key in your lock. It’s scary because your building is generally safe, and you can count on one hand the number of people who have a copy of your key- Stella the building manager, your elderly neighbor Mr. Callahan, and one ex who you ended it with over 6 months ago. The latter is the only one that makes sense since you know Stella leaves by 8pm each evening and Mr. Callahan is in bed shortly after his early-bird dinner at 4pm. 

If it is someone with malicious intent, they’re certainly not trying to sneak in, they’re cursing loudly and wrenching the knob that refuses to turn. The console table next to your front door houses your keyring, equipped with a small can of mace, so you grab it before checking the peephole. 

“Kevin are you fucking kidding me?” You unlock the door and yank it open to Kevin’s sleepy face on the other side. His eyes are droopy and his smile is lopsided. 

“Heyyyy, what are you doing at our house?!” You’ve seen Kevin around often since meeting him and Brady at the pool a few weeks ago. He’s always coming to or from the gym, or grabbing take-out, or the bar- which is probably the case right now. Kevin is good people, so you can’t find yourself getting too mad at the disturbance. 

Pocketing your keys in your robe, you join him in the hallway. “This isn’t your house, you dweeb. It’s mine,” he looks slightly confused before spinning around in the hall at his surroundings. 

“I see the problem now,” you’re not sure that he actually sees much of anything, since he looks a little worse for the wear right now, but he looks down to the floor before smiling back up at you, “your doormat should have tipped me off… we definitely never bought a doormat.”

He’s wobbly at best, so you grab him by the elbow and steer him towards his door. “Your boys home? Who’s going to tuck you in, bud? Make sure you have some water and get to bed okay?” Kevin is having a hard time with his keys, so you take the tangled ring and try a few before giving up and knocking loudly. 

“Hey!! I have something that belongs to you!” Kevin giggles and rests his forehead against the wall next to the door. 

The locks on the other side make a metallic jerking noise before the door is yanked open. You assume it’s the elusive 3rd roommate, Jimmy, since it’s certainly not Brady. Kevin has mentioned him in passing, but your paths haven’t crossed yet in the few weeks since they’ve moved in. 

He sighs and steps out into the hallway to get a look at Kevin. “You’re kidding me. How did you even make it home?”

“He didn’t,” you interject, “well… he made it to the building and then he tried to get into my apartment. Damn near maced him. He scared the crap out of me.” Jimmy seems to notice you for the first time. 

He looks a little sheepish when he responds, “I’m so sorry, he’s harmless really. Just drank a bit too much, I’m sorry he woke you up. We’re still pretty new to the building, he must have been confused.”

You smile, “It’s okay. I live down the hall and we met a few weeks ago. Good for him actually… it’s bear mace, so...” Kevin is still leaning heavy against the wall when you look over at him. 

“Oh, yeah- Brady mentioned you, I think. (y/n)?” Jimmy leans against the door jamb, arms crossed, and smiles- warm, like it’s not an inconvenience for you to be knocking on his door dragging an inebriated friend home to be taken care of. 

“That’s me…” you pause, not really wanting to get into a conversation at this time of night, the siren song of your soft bed and warm covers calling you back, “Do you think you can give him some water? Maybe some aspirin and make sure he gets to bed?”

Jimmy nods slowly as you talk, before the words seem to land and he nods more vigorously. “Oh, yeah of course… I am sorry, though- again. Thanks for getting him home, I got him from here,” he pulls Kevin over the threshold of the apartment, but doesn’t follow him down the hallway yet. 

“I’m Jimmy, by the way- nice to meet you and thanks again for not pepper spraying Kev.” You step one foot backwards, still looking in Jimmy’s direction. 

“Anytime, Jim. Make sure he survives the night.”

Jimmy smiles and salutes, “You got it. See you around, (y/n)” with one last wave, he closes the door and you finally head back to bed, knocking out as soon as you hit the pillow. 

______

Sunday morning you sleep in until 10, you feel like you’ve earned it after your night was interrupted however, Sundays are also for cleaning, so while your coffee is brewing, you pick a playlist on your phone and turn it on, loud enough that you can hear it throughout your apartment, but low enough to not bother Mr.Callahan through the thin walls. 

You’re halfway through cleaning out your fridge, dumping expired items into the garbage pail and making a grocery list for things to replenish, when there’s a sharp knock on your door. It’s not like you’re expecting company, so you glance at the mirror in the bathroom to make sure you’re decent before checking the peephole and opening the door to Jimmy. 

“Good morning,” you’re cheery, invigorated by the 2 cups of coffee you’ve downed so far and the adrenaline from being productive pumping through your veins.  

He has a brown paper bag in his hand, and he smiles, a small blush high on his cheekbones, and you can tell he’s much more reserved than Kevin, who is gregarious, loud, and boisterous each and every time you’ve bumped him since the very first day you met. 

“Uh, hey. Good morning. Hope I’m not bothering you-” he pauses and looks for permission to continue. You didn’t notice last night, half asleep and bleary, but he has the same accent as Kevin and you peg him as a Bostonian as well. 

Shaking your head you assure him, “Not at all. It’s daytime, that’s typically when visitors are expected. Let Kevin know, I don’t think he’s heard.” You smile and he huffs out a small chuckle.

He hands the paper bag over to you. “Just wanted to thank you again for being so cool about last night. Kev had a rough week and he felt like shit this morning when he realized what happened. He’s still sleeping it off, but just a little peace offering.”

The bag has the logo of the cafe down the street, where you frequently grab coffees and breakfast when you’re running late for work. “I just grabbed some bagels and a bacon, egg, and cheese. Heard that’s the way to a New Yorker’s heart…” he stops awkwardly as you unroll the top of the bag, and peer inside, “You’re not a vegan or anything are you… I didn’t even think about that. Hope it’s oka-”

“It’s great, Jimmy. Did you want to come in? There’s a ton of food here and I just made a fresh pot of coffee.” You step to the side and hold the door open, giving him a clear path into the house. 

He smiles again, it lifts up higher on one side of his mouth. “One cup can’t hurt I guess,” he steps in past you, nose leading him to the coffee pot on the counter. 

______

Jimmy stays for a few hours, he’s easy to talk to, quieter than Kevin, but you can immediately tell he’s got a sharp wit and it comes out the longer he sits in your kitchen, hat backwards and refilling his cup whenever it gets low. You start off talking about Kevin over your bagels and coffee, before devolving into how they know each other (distant cousins who grew up in Boston- you were right about the accent), and then he’s happy to talk about back home, opening up a little and telling you all the best spots in town, “I’m a local, so you know they’re good. You can’t go off google, that’s not authentic,” and defending ‘Dunks’ against all other coffee in the known world. 

“An extra extra? What the hell is that?” You’re topping off his coffee, grabbing the sugar canister off the counter and putting it on the table in front of him. 

“Extra cream, extra sugar. Why, what do you call it here?” 

“Fucking disgusting?” You laugh at your own joke, adding milk to your coffee, “Light and sweet I guess? Tell me something else in Boston.” His posture is relaxed as he leans back in his chair and starts talking about the Harvard Library, of all things. 

You’re happy with how Jimmy opens up sitting in your kitchen on a Sunday morning- chore list forgotten with both of your dishes sitting in the sink. You haven’t felt self conscious for one second even though you’re in your pajamas, hair in a sloppy bun on your head as you compare childhoods in the largest cities on the eastern seaboard. 

The conversation has turned to Game of Thrones, and he’s putting up a pretty good argument for you to start binging it, “I swear it’s like a movie every week. The production value is incredible,” when there’s a knock on your door. 

“More people have knocked on this damned door in the last 12 hours than have in the last 3 years. Sorry Jim, one sec- let me see who that is.” It’s equal parts surprising and unsurprising when you see Kevin on the other side of the peephole. The easy choice is to let him in, turn back around, and walk him to the kitchen as he stammers out his apologies, trailing behind you. 

“Jimmy apologizes better. He brought food,” You take your seat across from Jimmy at your small kitchen table again, as Kevin looks visibly shocked to see Jimmy there, one eyebrow making its way up in question. Jimmy immediately turns bright red when he meets Kevin’s eye. 

He makes himself at home, leaning against your counter and opening up the paper bag before selecting a bagel. “Butter in the fridge?” you nod and he helps himself. “I was wondering where you went, bro. I’ve been up for hours and you haven’t answered one text. I was about to head to the gym to look for you.”

Picking his phone up, Jimmy grits his teeth, “Ah, sorry. Time got away from me. I was supposed to be training, but I stopped by to apologize- for your dumb ass by the way- and we got to talking, I didn’t check my phone.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Kevin tells him it’s no big around the bitten off hunk of bagel wedged in his cheek. “You got plans today, (y/n)?” He chews heartily before you shake your head no, and Kevin lists off about five things that he wants to do, clearly no longer plagued by a hangover. Jimmy meets your eye and you shrug. 

“Sure, let me get ready.” You haven’t had a friend in the building before, but it feels a lot like you just made a few.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

the official hockey masterlists! they've been a long time coming, but i wasn't originally planning on writing so much hockey fic lol. it’s been a fun, wild year of fic! i did my best to capture everything i’ve written, but if there’s something that’s not on here let me know and i’ll add it in ☺️

if i’ve written two or more fics, he gets a masterlist, otherwise i’m just going to link to the fic or headcanon or blurb on this post

i hope you guys have as much fun reading these fics as i did writing them! 🤍

andrei svechnikov

mat barzal

brady skjei

martin necas

miscellaneous players

tyler seguin

champagne buzz down to my toes* (12.1k) new year’s eve in las vegas gets out of hand when you meet tyler, a gorgeous stranger in the club

cole caufield

four weddings and a funeral (11.4k) it’s the summer of weddings and just as you’re dreading going solo to them, your brother’s best friend, cole caufield, offers to be your date. it’s the perfect solution, too bad you’ve been madly in love with cole for years and your heart can’t seem to grasp the concept of a fake date.

brock boeser

you look like you love me* (2.7k) you’re nothing but the nanny for brock’s daughter until one night all the lines get blurred

matthew tkachuk

giddy up* (1k) you watch matty compete in the saddle bronc competition at the calgary stampede

[senditcolton]

If You Want It Done

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

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

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

Sadness. Humiliation. Shame.

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

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

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

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

He was angry.

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

Instead, he drove to yours.

~

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

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

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

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

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

“Brady.”

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

“Did you see the game?” he asks.

“I heard.”

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that what you did?”

“None of your business.”

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

“You’re lying.”

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

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

You wanted it to come out completely. 

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

“You wouldn’t dare.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.”  

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

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

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

“You are, Brady.”

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

“No. Only you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A little.”

“Need anything else?”

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

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

“I just know what I want.”

“Which is?”

“You.”

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

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

Like he always belonged there.

Like he never left.

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

[comphy-and-cozy]

hi love, i’m here to trade you brady pics for the brady smut prompt “say you want me, and i’m yours.” - @ryanpulock on main 😅😘

these pics literally sent me into an institution oh my god he is so perfect WHO LET HIM BE LIKE THIS

anyway this got way deeper than i intended and morphed into a midnight rain-esque blurb. I kind of split up the quote a little bit but it's worth it I promise xoxo

Prompt: "Say you want me, and I'm yours."

Pairing: Brady Skjei x Reader (f)

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Adult themes/mature content, smut (not explicit explicit but still NSFW/18+), a few swears, and a healthy splash of angst

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

Without a shadow of a doubt, Brady Skjei was the kindest, most wonderful man you’d ever met. He was handsome, respectful, attentive. He was everything you could ever want in a man. Nicholas Sparks himself couldn’t have written a more perfect man. 

And that was the problem.

Brady was too perfect. Too kind. Too wonderful. And it terrified you, a far-from-perfect, sometimes-selfish, rough-around-the-edges kind of girl. Simply put, you didn’t deserve him, and you knew it. He was sunshine, you were rain. It was only a matter of time before you hurt him, or worse, disappointed him.

It broke your heart to break his, ending your picture perfect romance in a series of tears and wistful, sad smiles. He even was sweet during that, comforting you even when he had every right to hate your guts.

That was over a year ago, and yet here you are, on your back on his plush mattress, the usually pristine white comforter wrinkled and ruffled under your weight. His shirt is off – his body is still perfect, too, though that had never been a complaint – and he’s working yours off, haphazardly tugging at the strings that tie your top together. At least, he’s trying to, when his hands aren’t distracted grasping your hips or palming your breasts.

“Brady,” you sigh, fighting the haze that threatens to invade your senses with the way his lips trace over your pulse point. 

He hums, a half response, more concentrated on the way your perfume swirls with the scent of your shampoo, invading his nostrils in a potion that gets him far drunker than any alcohol he could consume. Which he had done plenty of, earlier at the bar before he ran into you.

Cool air washes over your chest, remedied quickly by a hot mouth, when he finally succeeds in getting the bow on your top untied, fabric falling open. For a moment, you forget that you were trying to speak in more than just moans and sighs of his name, his tongue tracing intricate patterns across your breast.

“Brady,” you repeat, a bit more firm this time. “What are we doing?”

“M’trying to fuck you,” he murmurs, voice muffled by your skin when his mouth moves to your other breast.

“This isn’t – we can’t –”

Your stuttering hesitation finally warrants a pause from him, a sigh against your stomach, having been in the middle of working his way down to the button of your leather pants. 

“Are you saying that because of you, or because of me?”

“Wh – what does that mean?”

“We can’t do this because you don’t want to, or because you’re trying to protect me?” he says, a last nip at your abdomen before he’s hauling himself to sit up on his knees. He looks down at you, ready to have a conversation, maybe like he’s been waiting to have this conversation.

Your voice is small when you finally speak. “It’s not fair to you.”

“I appreciate you looking out for me, but I can make decisions for myself.” It’s not harsh, not meant to be, but his words sting you all the same.

His hands reach toward yours, soft when his fingers tangle loosely with your own. There’s a spark when he touches you, a warmth that you only feel when he’s around. When you look up to meet his eyes, they’re looking at you with a pensive softness and something else, unreadable. 

“I want you. I want you, still, in every aspect of the word. I want to be with you. I want to eat breakfast with you, go grocery shopping with you, to give you massages when you have cramps. I want to fuck you every morning and every night, to miss you when I’m on road trips. And I know that at least part of you wants that, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, right now, all these months later.”

Brady lets his words sink in for a beat, carefully gauging your reaction before continuing, “I don’t care how long it takes. I had so much time to find someone else, to let you go. No one else comes close. You’re it for me.”

Your throat’s gone dry, shocked at his confession; though, if you were honest with yourself, not a single day had gone by that he didn’t cross your mind, too. You’ve been dreading the day he found a new girlfriend, forever doomed to hate yourself for letting the perfect man walk away.

Or so you thought.

His hands gripping yours pull you gently from your thoughts, tugging you to sit up so he can sit you in his lap, legs finding their natural position on either side of his hips. Brown eyes gaze into yours, his handsome features marred with worry. 

“If you want me even half as much as I want you, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

People always talk about the big climax in the movies, with the wind machine and the symphony blaring in the background as the main characters finally have their long-awaited on-screen kiss. This one isn’t quite like that, happening much quicker and much less cinematic than it’s portrayed, but they manage to capture the overwhelming emotions of it all perfectly well.

In the fraction of a second it takes for your heart to scream, ‘Yes!’, you’re lunging forward to kiss him, all other thoughts disappearing once his lips connect with yours. You can feel his grin against your mouth, hands quickly finding your back to keep you pressed against him.

It doesn’t take long for things to pick up where they left off, this time succeeding in your clothes finding the floor. But he does take his time lathering your skin with kisses, lingering touches, heating you from the inside out, until you’re whining when he’s between your legs. Brushing against where you want him most, but not giving you the satisfaction, a sort of cruel ode to making him wait for you.

“Say you want me,” he murmurs, breath hot against the shell of your ear as his lips abandon the fresh mark they’ve just made on your collarbone. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Brady,” you breathe, and he hums at the way his name sounds from your mouth. “I want you. Need you.”

And when he pushes into you, strong and steady, the look in his eye from earlier is replaced by warmth and ardent fervor. Maybe perfect isn’t so bad.

[smileysvech]

What are some of your favorite hockey boy fics? 🥰

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

andrei svechnikov

fake numbers and date numbers by @matsbarzal

glittery by @comphy-and-cozy

the love countdown series by @behoright

meet me at midnight by @senditcolton

the mystery of love by @comphy-and-cozy

playing pretend by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

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

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

andrei svechnikov/brady skjei

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

andrei svechnikov/dylan coghlan

919 temptations by @hoesforthecanes

brady skjei

adore you by @comphy-and-cozy

do I really have to tell you? by @senditcolton

midnight rain by @comphy-and-cozy

mat barzal

more than a vancouver sunset by @zuucc

praising you by @eberles

we've come so far baby by @mendeshoney

mat barzal/tyson jost

summer nights by @hookingminor

jt compher

our love was made for the movies by @jostystyles

slow mornings by @comphy-and-cozy

something to dream about by @comphy-and-cozy

mikko rantanen

bad for business by @comphy-and-cozy

you’re the reason I come home by @senditcolton

tyson jost

baby, you make me crazy series by @hookingminor

how I look on you by @hookingminor

like this series by @matbaerzal

longshot by @flashyfucker

open your eyes by @matbaerzal

matt martin

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

we're a bad idea by @senditcolton

[leafsbabe]

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄

♡ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

♡ 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

♡ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒

♡ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃

♡ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 

↳ Trevor Zegras - nsfw alphabet

↳ Brock Boeser - nsfw alphabet

↳ Arber Xhekaj - boyfriend headcanon

↳ Michael Bunting - nsfw alphabet

↳ Moritz Seider - nsfw alphabet

↳ Joe Burrow - sex headcanon

↳ Joe Burrow - breeding kink headcanon

↳ Jack Hughes - nsfw alphabet

↳ Thomas Bordeleau - nsfw alphabet

↳ Mitch Marner - breeding kink headcanon

↳ Kirill Kaprizov - nsfw alphabet

↳ Quinn Hughes - breeding kink headcanon

↳ Jeremy Swayman - nsfw alphabet

↳ Owen Power - nsfw alphabet

↳ Luke Hughes - nsfw alphabet

↳ Leon Draisaitl - boyfriend headcanon

↳ Vince Dunn - blurb

↳ Luca Fantilli - sex headcanon

↳ Jordan Kyrou - breeding kink headcanon

↳ Lucas Raymond - boyfriend headcanon

↳ Nathan MacKinnon - song blurb

↳ Alex Turcotte - nsfw alphabet

↳ Andrei Svechnikov - song blurb

↳ Morgan Rielly - breeding kink headcanon

↳ Mat Barzal - blurb

↳ Brady Skjei - boyfriend headcanon

↳ Mitch Marner - nsfw alphabet

↳ Luke Hughes - sex headcanon

↳ Jamie Drysdale - nsfw alphabet

↳ Chris Kreider - blurb

↳ Pyotr Kochetkov - boyfriend headcanon

↳ Sidney Crosby - boyfriend headcanon

↳ Mark Estapa - sex headcanon

↳ Mark Estapa - nsfw alphabet

↳ Dylan Duke - sex headcanon

↳ Dylan Duke - nsfw alphabet

↳ Nolan Moyle - sex headcanon

↳ Nolan Moyle - nsfw alphabet

↳ Mat Barzal - nsfw alphabet

↳ Cole Caufield - nsfw alphabet

↳ Matthew Knies - boyfriend headcanon

↳ Matthew Knies - nsfw alphabet

↳ Vince Dunn - breeding kink

↳ Sidney Crosby - sundress season headcanon

↳ Mat Barzal - having an inexperienced partner headcanon

↳ Matthew Tkachuk - sundress season headcanon

↳ Moritz Seider & Lucas Raymond - smut

↳Vince Dunn - smut

↳Sidney Crosby - nsfw alphabet

↳Tyler Glasnow - breeding kink headcanon

↳Thomas Bordeleau - sex headcanon

↳Sidney Crosby - smut

↳Matthew Tkachuk - nsfw alphabet

↳Patrik Laine - boyfriend headcanon

↳Vince Dunn - fluff

↳Jeff Skinner - nsfw alphabet

↳Matt Martin - breeding kink headcanon

↳Matt Martin - sex headcanon

↳Tyler Glasnow - smut

↳Travis Kelce - nsfw alphabet

↳Matthew Tkachuk - smut

♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

[behoright]

₊˚ ♡ Masterlist :¨·. ₊˚ ♡

༚ . 🍓 ◌ ꙳ . ⊹ 🎂 + ｡ ๋༚ . ☎️ ◌ ꙳ . ⊹ 🦷 + ｡

last updated: may 5th

contains smut or adult themes -> *

Carolina Hurricanes love countdown (series) l andrei svechnikov

love countdown

i like you*

asap!

your fuse is fireside*

prisoner*

give me a sign*

beside you, somehow

say it back*

let us feel*

holy series

holy l brent burns (+ canes)*

electricity l b. burns x a. svechnikov x m. necas*

one shots

just a little bored l brent burns x jordan staal x reader*

how the gold glisten l andrei svechnikov x pyotr kochetkov x reader*

eye on you l a. svechnikov

smitten l f. andersen*

blurbs

kid's night with andrei svechnikov*

kids night with kk*

kids night with brent burns*

kids night with brady skjei*

long distance friendship with andrei svechnikov

Montreal Canadiens/Habs

lightning on my skin l k.dach*

Vancouver Canucks

alive for you l j. studnicka*

Pittsburgh Penguins

ultraviolet disguise l s. crosby*

New York Islanders

console me l m.barzal*

New York Rangers

blurbs

boyfriend! braden schneider in bed*

[ladylooch]

How about soft thoughts Sunday?

I'm sad today and need comfort. Send me lil blurb thoughts for these players:

Nico Hischier

Miles Wood

Adrian Kempe

Timo Meier

Kevin Fiala

Brady Skjei

or the AUs:

Lio & Lucie

Loving & Leaving

What My World Spins Around

Letters in Your Last Name ( if you read it already :p)

Yes I'm still working on your requests 😘 Don't get mad at me!

[midnightsnyx]

BLURBS/DRABBLES

jealousy, jealousy / matthew tkachuk

bad day / matthew tkachuk

girl dad / trent frederic

lake days / brock boeser

love song / nathan mackinnon

playing games / jack hughes

proposals / matthew tkachuk

confessions / brady skjei

nice thoughts / luke hughes

oh baby / quinn hughes

sweet as sugar / leon draisaitl

something warm / quinn hughes

drunk dialed / part 1, part 2 / matthew tkachuk

this one was for you / carter verhaeghe

beautiful girl / matthew tkachuk

bed head / leon draisaitl

broken frame / nico hischier

lazy sundays / nico hischier

hush / nico hischier

museum meet cute / nico hischier

aquarium dates / matthew tkachuk

beautiful smile / arber xhekaj

drunken confessions / arber xhekaj

sleepy mornings / nate mackinnon

confessions / phillipp grubauer