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comphy-and-cozy · 1 year

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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)

#andrei svechnikov fic #brady skjei fic #andrei svechnikov smut #brady skjei smut #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #brady skjei x reader #andrei svechnikov blurb #brady skjei blurb #andrei svechnikov x y/n #brady skjei x y/n #andrei svechnikov imagine #brady skjei imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 11 months

Text

a/n: consider me influenced 😅 an aggressively horny brady skjei fic all inspired by the above picture. @pyotrkochetkov did her job well! i COULD NOT get this idea out of my head so i had to write it. i’m not guaranteeing that i’ll write for brady again either, just bc he’s married irl and it feels a little weird? but ya know, never say never, clearly 😶

word count: 3.4k

tw: age gap (6 years but not really a main focus or factor - i don’t even really mention the age gap, it was just in my head as i wrote), daddy kink, spanking, praise kink

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

You know you’re asking for trouble from the second you pull the Svechnikov jersey over your head and Brady’s face at the arena when he sees you only confirms that. You’re in the corner with the other WAGs, chatting happily while still scanning the ice for Brady during warmups. He does a lap and then spots you, his smile lighting up his entire face even under his helmet and visor. When he starts skating towards you, you turn a little so the 37 on your sleeve is visible and Brady’s entire expression changes.

His lips, that pouty lower lip you love to bite, turn down in a scowl and his jaw clenches. You smirk a little at him, head cocked to the side and one shoulder lifting in a small ‘what’s the matter?’ shrug. Brady’s eyes narrow at you and he shakes his head, lips still pulled down in a deep frown. His tongue pokes at the side of his cheek and he doesn’t get any closer to the glass, fifteen or so feet separating you.

Keeping your gaze locked on him, you cross your arms, jersey pulled tightly around your body. Your hip cocks a little and Brady’s eyes track the movement, noticing the skin tight jeans on your lower half. He shakes his head at you one more time before skating off, accidentally on purpose bumping Andrei’s shoulder with his as he skates past. A little giggle slips past your lips when you catch sight of Andrei’s confused expression - you feel bad for dragging him into your little game with Brady, but it’s not like Brady has anything anything to worry about since Svech is in his own long-term relationship. Besides, you like your men a little older, which Brady knows very well.

Brady’s just a jealous piece of shit and you know that - tonight you’re exploiting it in your favor.

He’s electric on the ice, crushing some of the Anaheim players into the boards, zipping up the ice with the puck, and hitting the posts twice before finally deflecting a Martin Necas shot into the net.

After his goal and celly, he finds you in the stands and smirks at you, giving you a little swatting motion with his gloved hand. You grin back, excitement flooding your veins. The jersey is clearly working.

The game ends in a win for the Canes, which only helps your cause, and you stream out of PNC with the crowds, not bothering to rush to your car since you’ll have to wait a while for Brady to get home anyway. You scroll through Instagram while you wait in your car for the crowds to disperse a bit, double tapping on a few of your friends’ pictures. The ones that are younger than you, still in school, are posting from tropical locations on Spring Break. You zone out a little bit, thinking about summer break on a beach with Brady.

Traffic eases up and you start the car, getting back to Brady’s apartment just a little before eleven. You ease your car into your spot and let yourself in with your key. You shed your sneakers and jeans, flushed with excitement from the game and the text that Brady had sent from the locker room - I’ll be home in an hour. I think you know what’s coming, little girl.

You definitely know what’s coming and your body tingles with excitement.

When Brady gets home, you’re waiting by the front door, the jersey’s hem brushing the middle of your thighs. You smile brightly at him, “what a game, Brady. You were so good.”

He raises an eyebrow and drops his bag to the floor. His hair is damp, but drying, the light from the hallway catching on his greys. “You’re a fucking menace,” he says, chuckling a bit. “You know that?”

“Me?” You ask innocently, pointing at yourself with an index finger. “I was just supporting you…”

Brady steps forward, crowding you against the wall with his body, kicking the front door shut behind him with a slam. “Supporting me?” He ask, smirking a little meanly. Your thighs press together under the jersey. His hand reaches out and traces up your bare thigh, fisting in the jersey’s fabric. “Funny way of showing it, sweetheart.”

“I showed up at the game,” you reply, a little breathless. Brady’s hand is so close to where you want it. “Cheered for you. Wore a Canes jersey…”

“Wore a Svech jersey, like a little brat,” Brady cuts you off, grabbing your chin with his other hand. His fingers wrap around your jaw and he tilts your head up, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. You smile innocently at him and suck the pad of his thumb into your mouth, scraping it against your bottom teeth. Brady pushes closer to you, the heat of his body overwhelming. “You know what happens to little brats, don’t you? They get punished.”

His other hand pushes higher, bunching the fabric of your borrowed jersey up over your hip. His fingers brush against the thin band of your thong, snapping the elastic a little. You flinch against him at the sensation, hips rolling forward to press against the erection straining the front of his slacks. His hips thrust forward on their own accord, a single hard push into yours.

His thumb still in your mouth, you mumble, “I haven’t been very bad, Brady.”

“Bad girls still have to get punished, to learn their lesson,” he murmurs, breath hot against your cheek. Before you can answer, his lips slide over yours in a bruising kiss, his hand still holding your face in place. You lean up on tip toes, wrapping your hands around his biceps to keep steady, returning the kiss with equal heat. His tongue traces your lower lip and your mouth falls open, only for him to bite gently at your lip. The sharp sting makes you gasp and Brady takes the opportunity to break the kiss, roughly pulling at the jersey. The fabric is yanked over your head, messing up your hair, and tossed carelessly to the floor. Cool air hits your bare stomach and your nipples tighten under the lace cups of your bra. Brady gives you a once over, eyes lingering on the stiff peaks of your nipples.

“I don’t want to see that fucking jersey ever again,” he growls, crushing you against his chest with one arm and dragging you with him over to the couch. Your toes drag against the floor as Brady walks, only for him to sit heavily at the edge of the couch, pulling you down and flipping you so you’re draped over his lap on your stomach. Your hands are pinned under your chest. Excitement and lust flip your stomach, your ass subconsciously lifting in the air. The hard ridge of his cock presses against your hip and you wiggle a little, breathless from the manhandling.

Brady’s palm, warm and broad and calloused, smooths over your ass cheek and you shiver, getting wetter by the second.

“How many do you think, sweetheart?” He asks in a mocking tone that tells you he’s already decided how many spanks he’s going to dole out. His thumb traces an arc over your bare skin and goosebumps lift on your arms. His other hand rests on your lower back, holding you in place, keeping your body pressed heavily against his cock. It twitches under you and you grin.

Your face is pressed into the couch cushion so your voice is muffled when you reply, “as many as I deserve.”

It’s the right answer, because Brady’s cock grows harder under you and you can hear the smile in his tone when he says, “such a good girl. Knowing when to take her punishment.”

Brady’s hand smooths over your ass once more before it’s gone and back, a stinging slap that has you jolting over his lap, rubbing against his cock, and has your ass cheek jiggling. The impact makes you gasp from surprise more than from pain and heat floods between your legs. The couch fabric slides under your cheek and you lift your ass higher. The next two spanks come in quick succession and tears prick at your eyes, even as your stomach clenches with desire. You wiggle over Brady’s lap, desperate for relief from the ache between your legs.

“Such a good girl,” Brady praises you, his other hand moving from where it was resting on your lower back to slip under your body and cup one of your breasts. The lace cup chafes your skin, but it feels good. He spanks you again, rolling your nipple between two fingers and pinching as he goes. He spanks you a fifth time and now the sting is starting to hurt. But the sting is nothing compared to the building desire rocking through your body. Your clit throbs and you shift, trying to get Brady’s muscled thigh in a position to press against your clit.

Your thong is soaked through and a petulant whine builds up in the back of your throat, escaping when Brady’s hand squeezes your breast, hard. “Brady…” you whine his name, trying to twist your hips. His palm is heavy on your ass cheek, skin hot to the touch.

“Are you complaining, sweetheart?” He asks, thrusting his hips lazily, pressing his erection against your stomach. The hard heat of him sends another wave of desire through your body. “Is five little spanks enough for my little brat?”

You nod and Brady pinches a nipple again. “Did you learn your lesson? I’m not sure you did, that sweet little pussy is dripping wet, I think you liked this too much. I don’t think it was a punishment enough,” his voice is ragged, fingers dipping between your legs to swipe at the wetness gathering. “Should I punish you another way? Bring you to the edge and deny you release?”

Without warning, his middle finger slips into you and you cry out, surprised and thrilled. You push back against his finger, willing him to move it and give you some relief. He crooks it carefully, giving you just enough before withdrawing the digit completely and giving you another sharp slap to the ass. You gasp, tears falling down your cheeks, and Brady doesn’t give you a second to recover before he’s wrapping his arm around your waist and moving you, sitting you on his lap so you’re straddling him in a reverse cowgirl position. Your legs are spread open over his thick thighs and his arm is wrapped securely around your waist, keeping your back pressed flush against his chest. He opens his legs a little, spreading them wide so your legs follow, giving him plenty of access to tease you. Your muscles burn from the stretch.

Two fingers tease at the edge of your thong and you wiggle in his grip. Your ass stings, the fabric of his pants rough against sensitive skin, but you grind down on him, gasping softly, breathless.

“Is my sweet little girl trying to get herself off?” Brady asks, his voice low and raspy in your ear. “Look at the mess you’re making, sweetheart.”

You glance down at his lap where his pants have a huge wet mark over one thigh from where you were dropping all over him. “I want you, Brady, all for you,” you murmur, the words choking off when Brady nudges your thong aside and plunges two fingers into you, the stretch nothing when you’re soaked for him. You watch his fingers disappear into your cunt, impossibly turned on by the sight. Heat coils low in your stomach as his wrist moves, strong tendons and muscles flexing. For a few heartbeats the only sound is your ragged breathing and the obscene squelch of Brady’s fingers pumping your soaked cunt. His lap is a mess, your arousal staining the fabric of his suit. As he works his fingers, you clench around him, grinding down over his hand.

“What kind of gentleman would I be,” he asks, running the tip of his nose against your jaw line while his fingers pump in and out of you, “if I left you to get yourself off? Daddy always takes care of his little girl, even when she’s a brat.”

His arm is like a vise around your waist, keeping you in place. “You think Svech could treat this pussy with the care it deserves? Think he could make you as wet as I do? Think he knows anything about making you come with a few fingers? Who does this sweet little cunt belong to, baby? Whose is it?”

“Y-yours, it’s yours,” you gasp, riding his hand, seeing stars when his thumb circles your clit and then screaming his name when he presses down. Pressure builds in your stomach, your entire body going hot. “Brady, Brady,” you chant his name, “please, please!”

“Please what?” He breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “Use your big girl words.” He slides a third blunt finger into you, knowing exactly what you want even without you asking for it. You cry out his name again, his fingers curling and pressing against your G-spot.

“Wanna come,” you babble. “Need to come, please. Daddy, please, let me.” Your fingers scrabble at his forearm, nails scraping the fabric of his suit jacket and slipping right off. Sweat drops down your temple and your stomach muscles clench, your thighs trembling from riding him.

He rocks his hips up into yours, his cock pressing against the seam of your ass. “Come on, sweetheart,” he thrusts up again, driving his fingers into you at the same time, “soak my fingers.”

Brady’s hand glides up your chest and kneads your breast, the other still working at your clit. It’s too much sensation, too much pressure, and you scream his name, falling apart in his arms. Brady works you through the orgasm, fingers gentle as they circle your clit, sliding lazily through your arousal. Your entire body goes limp, head sagging back against his shoulder. Brady kisses your temple, nuzzling his nose into your hairline.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, still holding you, fingers still inside of you. His cock is rock hard against your ass. “Took her punishment so well.”

You whine, incapable of speech. He chuckles against your overheated skin. “Bet I could slide my cock right into that little cunt and you wouldn’t even notice, you’re that wet for me, baby.” He peppers kisses to your bare shoulder, stubble scraping your skin and making you shiver. His lips are a little chapped and he bites gently at the junction of your neck and collarbone, sucking a little mark.

“I’d notice,” you mumble, reaching down to run your hands over his thighs. “Do it. I wanna feel you.”

Brady pulls his fingers from you, drawing another whine at the sudden emptiness, and sucks each finger clean. His hips roll lazily under yours and you know he’s looking for a release too. “C’mon, Brady, fuck me. Know you wanna,” you sigh, shifting on his lap, wincing when the fabric scrapes your sore ass.

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” he replies, lifting and turning you so you’re facing him. The change in position is better for your hips - they were almost locked in position - and you take the opportunity to kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. Brady’s hands are secure on your waist, holding you close. “How’s that cute little ass of yours?” He mumbles the question against your lips.

His hair is flopped over his forehead now, greys prominent in the lighting and you lift your hands to run them through his hair. You fucking love the greys. They’re hot as hell.

You wrinkle your nose, knowing it’s going to be hard to sit for a day or two, but don’t reply. Brady wraps his arms around your back and lifts you, your legs locking around his waist instinctively. You bury your face in his neck, wrung out. His cock presses against your ass still, hard and hot under you, and you can’t help but press down on him. Brady grunts at the pressure, pinching the side of your thigh in warning.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” his voice is strained as he carries you to the bedroom. “I think you learned your lesson, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum, smiling against his skin. “No more Svech jerseys.”

“Damn straight,” Brady’s hand smooths over your ass, fingertips teasing at your folds and making you shiver. He carries you into the shower and strips you of your bra and thong before setting you under the spray. His suit gets discarded to the floor, in desperate need of dry cleaning after you came all over his pants, and he joins you, kissing you gently when he ducks his head under the water. His erection presses into your hip and you reach for him, enjoying the way he inhales sharply at your touch, the way his cock jumps in your grip. Neither of you say anything as you work him over, hand gliding over his erection easily. When he’s close, Brady drops his head to your shoulder, bracing himself with both palms against the shower wall behind your head. He comes, hot and fast, with a shout, covering your hand and wrist in cum. It’s probably not the most satisfying orgasm or hand job you’ve ever given him, but it’s really all you have capacity for right now.

After you dry off and get dressed - in a tank top and an oversized pair of Brady’s boxers - Brady brings you a bowl of Fruity Pebbles to bed and nudges you onto your stomach. You kick your feet up in the air, eating your midnight snack while he rubs aloe lotion onto your ass cheek. The lotion is cool against your hot and sensitive skin and you can’t help but sigh in relief. Your eyes flutter closed even as you spoon the dry cereal into your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” Brady sounds surprised, “your skin is all red. Why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you?”

His hands are gentle while they rub lotion into your skin and you’re completely relaxed under his touch. Sleepily and with a mouthful of cereal, you mumble, “I liked it. Wasn’t hurting me.”

“Still,” he says, pressing a kiss to the center of your ass cheek. “Don’t like hurting you.”

You wiggle your ass under his touch and laugh a little. “Brady, you think I didn’t know what was going to happen when I wore the Svech jersey? Please, sometimes a girl needs to be spanked,” you roll a little onto your side, looking back at him. Your eyes twinkle. “Maybe you should try it.”

“Don’t even think about it, sweetheart,” Brady laughs, giving you a little stink eye.

“Or what?” You giggle, raising an eyebrow. “You’ll spank me?”

Brady growls, “you little brat,” lunging for your side and tickling you. You shriek, the bowl of dry cereal going flying as you laugh and squirm.

“Brady, stop please! No more!” You beg for mercy, gasping laugher making it hard to breathe.

“Are you going to behave?” He asks, fingers digging into your sides. His hair is messy and all over the place, his grin wide and delighted.

You laugh and manage to say, “no, never!” Anything else you might say is gone when Brady rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re splayed over his chest, his arms locking you in place.

He smirks up at you, shaking his head. “Such a bad girl,” he kisses your chin. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” you tease, kissing the tip of his nose and wiggling your hips against his, making his cock stir under you.

Brady’s eyes twinkle. “Oh, sweetheart, I got plenty of ideas of what I’d like to do with you.” He wraps his hand around the back of your neck and pulls your face to his, kissing you deeply, tongue swiping over your lower lip. You moan into his mouth, letting your knees fall to either side of his hips so you’re straddling his pelvis. The kiss deepens and Brady grips your hips, mindlessly dragging you over his cock. He’s half-hard under you. When you break apart for air, he mumbles, “starting with that.”

You hum, dazed, and bury your face against his neck. “If,” you mumble, “I get spanked for wearing a Svech jersey, what happens if I wear a Necas jersey?”

Brady barks out a laugh, “why don’t you try it and see, sweetheart?”

#brady skjei #brady skjei x reader #brady skjei x you #brady skjei fic #brady skjei imagine

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uluvjay · 11 months

Note

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

19. "Strip. Now."

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

Brady Skjei x reader

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

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

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

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

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

"wanna know something?" you whispered

"hmm?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"inside, cum inside please" you egged him

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

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

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

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

#brady skjei #brady skjei imagine #brady skjei smut #brady skjei x reader #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #carolina hurricanes #uluvejay request week

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leafsbabe · 1 year

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how Brady Skjei is like as a boyfriend

- Brady is a giant softie

- he loves being with you and being close to you

- that includes physical closeness

- always hugging you from behind

- putting his head on your shoulder and his hands on your hips

- so man forehead kisses

- he absolutely spoils you

- and not just for holidays like Valentine’s or your birthday

- just likes showing you how much he loves you through gifts

- they’re not even always expensive, just little things or actions to show you he cares

- he’s not the best dancer but he loves dancing with you

- be it out and about in a bar

- or just in your living room at home

- absolutely hates seeing you upset

- and always tries to cheer you up

- just wants to make sure you’re okay

- Brady loves cuddling on the couch or in bed

- holding you, with a soft blanket wrapped around you two, in love

- it’s one of his favorite places to be

- tends to fall asleep mid-cuddle but he looks cute so it’s okay

- snores

- but only a little bit

- likes holding your hand

- and holding your waist

- and holding doors open for you

- Brady just likes to be a little old school

- or carrying bags for you because they look heavy even though you’re more than capable yourself

- he just wants to take care of you

- likes it when he comes home from a morning run to see you rolled onto his side of the bed or hugging his pillow

- something about you finding his scent soothing and helping you sleep is just very sweet to him

- Brady loves it when you run your fingers through his hair

- maybe tug on it a little

- not big on pda with like kissing or even full on making out

- but he likes to keep his hands on you

- likes to keep you close

- just a great partner

#brady skjei #hab series #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #hockey player #brady skjei imagine #brady skjei headcanon #milestone march

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nhlmcfilthy · 11 months

Text

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

#nhl #hockey #hockey rpf #nhl players #nhl hockey #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl imagine #brady skjei #brady skjei blurb #brady skjei imagine #brady skjei rpf #brady skjei x reader #canes #carolina hurricanes #nhl smut

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midnightsnyx · 11 months

Note

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.

#hockey imagines #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #allies writing #hockey imagine #hockey blurb #brady skjei imagine #brady skjei x reader #brady skjei blurb #allie answers

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skjeinon · 2 years

Note

what kinks do u think skjei would have

18+

whew i haven’t written for skjei in a while so i gotta like put my thinking cap on

- breeding. he’s 28, no kids, a beautiful wife? breeding kink. he’s great with kids, especially tro’s?? BREEDING KINK.

- every husband AU or husband fic i make is definitely riddled with a breeding kink but still.

- marking. biting you or giving hickeys ?? have you seen this man’s teeth? (read fangs!!)

- hair pulling. but mostly when you pull his hair. it’s one of his favorite parts about him, it looks great always, and he loves it when you touch it.

- size difference. he’s a big boy.

- when you wear his jerseys, he likes seeing your name on his back (read blue shirts!)

- usually dominant ofc but dominant can be dommed and i think that’s something that hits right on the nose here

- edging, especially edging you. or when you’re with other people, especially edging you in front of them so they knows how desperate you are.

- that brings us to our next point. threesomes/gang bangs. whether the AU is he’s boyfriends teammate or he’s your boyfriend, he likes watching others with you so even if you’re his or you’re his for a round , he gets a hardon by it.

- skjei definitely is the kind of person to only be comfortable with sex in his own home, but thank god he’s got a big apartment. just because he doesn’t want to fuck in public, doesn’t mean he doesn’t want go fuck on every single surface.

- he likes to hold you close to him when he fucks you from behind, meaning his chest is pressed to your back if you can’t help it and his arms are wrapped around your belly.

#brady skjei #carolina hurricanes #skjeinon answers #carolina hurricanes fanfiction #carolina hurricanes imagine #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl smut #brady skjei imagine #brady skjei x reader #18+

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sportswriters · 18 days

Text

sportswriters' nhl recommendations list

first of all, we love lists. second of all, we appreciate everyone who takes their time to put these works together, so we decided to do our own recommendation post. at last, these authors deserve all the love, we keep coming back to the space you created in this mess of a world. thank you, truly.

be aware of the individual warnings before reading. if the links are wrong or stopped working, please let us know.

love, namu and ella.

LAST UPDATE: 10/04/2024

guidelines | a: angst, f: fluff, s: smut, c: comedy, 💗: personal favorite

604 miles with luke hughes by @zegrasdrysdale | a, f | established relationship

canes red with jesperi kotkaniemi by @hoesforthecanes | s | established relationship

late night teasing with jack hughes by @alwayshughes | suggestive | established relationship

out with jack hughes by @babydollmarauders | f | secret established relationship

a guided hand with quinn hughes by @sweetestdesire | f, suggestive, aftercare | established relationship

gonna give it to you in capital letters with william nylander by @misshoneyimhome | a, f | secret established relationship

captain doesn't have to know with jeremy swayman by @skjeinon | s | friends to lovers

show you with mat barzal by @islesnucks | f | yearning, friends to lovers

the worst wing-woman with mat barzal by @youunravelme | a, f | co-workers to friends to lovers

yours with frederik andersen by @secretlittlerandezvous | a, f | established relationship

football recs list | list of players we write with | masterlist (soon!)

#nhl imagines #jeremy swayman imagines #carolina hurricanes imagines #andrei svechnikov imagines #jack drury imagines #brady skjei imagines #jesperi kotkaniemi imagines #nhl scenarios #nhl imagine #fic recs #fic recommendation #mat barzal imagines #william nylander imagines #jack hughes imagines #quinn hughe imagines #luke hughes imagines #nhl recs #nhl masterlist

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comphy-and-cozy · 9 months

Note

congrats on your milestone, c! 🩷

🦋 may i please request the prompt “you always being in my life is gift enough” with brady skjei? - @pyotrkochetkov

always @pyotrkochetkov 🖤 this is kind of an unofficial sequel to midnight rain since I still haven't quite gotten around to writing you a full fic

celebrate 1K with me

Prompt: "You always being in my life is gift enough."

Pairing: Brady Skjei x Reader (gn)

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: Just some really heart melting, tooth-rotting fluff with our handsome Disney prince who is the world's most perfect boyfriend

Though it’s your second go at a relationship, you’re still getting used to all of the feelings and comforts of having a boyfriend. As if he wants to prove himself, he’s always pulling out all of the stops: holding the door open for you, calling you to say goodnight every night on a road trip, sending you love notes when his flights land. It’s almost overwhelming, in the best possible way, your cup overflowing with love and adoration from the man who never gave up on you.

Tonight is date night, and he hasn’t told you anything except to dress comfortably and be prepared to be outdoors. You’re both excited and perplexed, looking through your closet for what might be the perfect outfit—except you don’t know what that looks like, because you have no idea what he’s got planned.

Eventually, after tearing apart half of your wardrobe, you’re dressed and ready to go, just in time to see a text come through from Brady telling you he’s on his way to pick you up.

It’s not long before there’s a knock on your door, and, like always, you’re blown away by the handsome smile that waits for you when you answer it. This time, he’s got flowers and a gift bag in his hand, and he leans forward to peck your lips.

He ushers you inside, sitting you at the kitchen counter to set the beautiful bouquet of flowers in a vase, then to open up the gift bag. Inside the bag is a poorly-drawn handmade map of what you believe is Raleigh, complete with sticky notes and barely legible chicken scratch.

Confused, you look up at him. “What… is it?”

He laughs. “It’s a scavenger hunt. I made it.”

Your eyebrows raise. “You made it?”

“Yup.”

Eyeing the shoddy color-coded key on the bottom, you click your tongue. “Actually, yeah, that checks out.”

Brady snorts, playfully nudging your shoulder to reprimand you for teasing him. He checks his watch, then adds, “Let’s get going so we can stay on schedule.”

“On schedule?” you ask as he grabs your hand, tugging you out the door.

The scavenger hunt is extremely well-planned, and you wonder whose help he elicited to execute it so flawlessly. Probably one of the wives, no doubt, and you resist the urge to giggle at the image of Brady sitting at his kitchen counter doing his best to copy the map on his laptop screen.

His hand-drawn map includes several stops throughout Raleigh, each of them holding a special meaning to you: your first date location, favorite ice cream shop, coffee shop, the bar where you ran into each other again, causing you to rekindle your relationship. At each stop, you pick up another clue that ultimately leads you to your final destination: a candlelit picnic at Moore Square.

“Brady, this is so sweet and thoughtful,” you gasp, eyes taking in the soft blanket and wicker picnic basket, a bottle of Pinot Grigio and two wine glasses balanced gently against the edge. Your heart warms at the effort and attentiveness he put into this—by all accounts a normal, mundane date night—but you can't say you're surprised.

His smile is beautiful, the evening sun casting a glow over him and highlighting the grays in his hair. He’s perfect, you think.

“Happy 6 month anniversary, baby.”

Oh shit. You forgot all about it—due in part to the fact that you didn’t really think people celebrated milestones like that, and secondly that you weren’t really sure which date really counted as your anniversary. Your heartbeat quickens as you rack your brain for anything you can think of last minute—something lying around at your apartment that you could throw together—but nothing comes.

“But I didn’t get you anything,” you say, guilt washing over you as you look over the spread inside the picnic basket: assorted fruits and veggies with what appears to be homemade (!!!) dips, pasta salad, and a smattering of finger foods.

“Hey, it’s totally fine. I don’t care about that,” he replies, tucking a finger under your chin to encourage you to look back up at him. “You always being in my life is gift enough.”

His words, as always, make your heart melt into a puddle, and you know that you have the most disgusting lovesick expression plastered on your face. When did you become such a simp? “Brady, I’m serious.”

“So am I, love. You don’t ever have to get me a gift as long as you kiss me goodnight every night.”

You hum, pushing the food to the side in favor of leaning in towards him. His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning, and you hope to yourself that you will always feel this way around him. As you press your lips against his, the world around you stops spinning, quiet and empty save for just the two of you, kissing in the park.

“I think I can manage that.”

#brady skjei fic #brady skjei blurb #brady skjei imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #c's 1k celly #pyotrkochetkov #asks

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behoright · 1 year

Note

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

#brady skjei #brady skjei smut #brady skjei blurb #brady skjei fic #brady skjei rpf #smut #nhl #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl rpf #hockey #kikiwrites

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 5 months

Text

a/n: i know i said i probably wouldn’t write more for brady, but, uh, here we are. this is porn with the barest minimum of plot. like genuinely this is so deranged but i had a wild time writing it. MAJOR props to @smileysvech for the title because i couldn’t think of a single one 😭

word count: 10.5k (😳 i had NO idea it was this long omg)

tw: period sex, like big time. this is essentially all smut and you’ve been warned. blood, obviously

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

When Brady comes home after practice and his workout, a full five hours after he left the house in the morning, he finds you in the exact same spot on the bed - curled up in the fetal position. You have the plush Stormy he bought you as a joke when one of your date nights accidentally ended at the pro shop cuddled against your chest, your face pressed into the top of the pig’s stuffed head. You lift your head slightly when you hear him step into the bedroom and mumble a soft, pitiful ‘hi’ before pressing your face back into the stuffed animal.

Brady lets out a sympathetic hum and sits down on the edge of the bed, a plastic bag crinkling in his hand. “Hey, sweetheart, still feeling crappy?” His fingers are cool against your skin when he reaches over and brushes a few pieces of hair off your forehead. His forehead is creased with concern, full lips downturned in a frown.

“Every damn month, Brady,” you whine, pulling your knees up closer to your chest, trying to add pressure to alleviate the cramps. “Every month and somehow I’m still always knocked on my ass.”

Your periods had always been difficult, lasting a full seven days and coming with headaches, sore breasts, nausea, and raging cramps. Days one and two were always the worst and it blew your mind how you were surprised that you felt like hot garbage every time. It’s like you forgot about the symptoms and misery the second it was over. Being on birth control had helped a bit, but birth control came with its own side effects - a rapid weight gain, migraines worse than you’ve ever had before, and a total death blow to your sex drive. So, off the birth control it was. The weight had slipped off and the migraines were reduced back to a normal headache. It had taken a second for your libido to come back, worrying you, but thankfully it was back a few months after stopping the pills. Now you just have to suffer through the worst two days of your period, the edge coming off with a borderline unhealthy amount of Advil going into your body.

“Maybe this will help?” Your boyfriend grins a little as he rustles through the plastic CVS bag and withdraws a can of raspberry Arizona iced tea and two king sized Butterfingers bars. He holds the candy bars between his fingers, splayed out like he’s displaying a deck of cards.

Tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by Brady’s thoughtfulness and the flood of hormones in your body. You nod a little, giving him a wavering smile. “You’re too good to me,” you reach out and flatten your palm over Brady’s grey-sweatpants clad knee, the closest body part of his that you can reach from your position in the middle of the bed. Brady snorts a laugh.

“Sweetheart, this is nothing,” he leans back a little and sets the candy and drink on your bedside table, knocking the family-sized bottle of Advil to the floor and pushing your half-finished Tessa Bailey novel to the edge, nearly sending it to the abyss between the piece of furniture and the wall. “Whatever you need from me, I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

It’s game day tomorrow, at home, which means Brady really is off the hook from team responsibilities until morning skate tomorrow. A sharp cramp works its way through your uterus and you wince, wiggling a little to stop your butt cheek from going numb.

“Can you just…like, cuddle with me?” You ask, rolling your neck so you can look up at Brady’s face. His eyes are soft and a low throb of want fights the cramps. You feel gross though, bloated and sore and right now all you can handle is being the little spoon to Brady’s big.

Brady’s nodding, already laying back on his side of the bed, “whatever you need from me, sweetheart,” he says, rolling onto his side and opening his arms for you to scoot in. His body is warm and inviting and you could cry with how badly you just need to be held right now. You feel stupid and silly and fragile, but Brady’s never shied away from giving you the comfort you need. He’s still and patient while you settle your head on the inside of his bicep, pressing your back against his chest, your ass flush against his groin, your knees bent and his knees slotted in right behind yours. Every inch of your body is pressed against Brady’s and the body heat coming off of him is better than any heating pad.

He wraps the arm that’s supporting your head over your chest, his forearm resting against your collarbone, and slides his other hand under the hem of your sweatshirt so his warm, broad palm can rest on your lower stomach, pressing down with gentle pressure to help your cramps. You sigh happily and relax back against him, tension seeping out of your shoulders and spine.

“Better?” He murmurs, breath hot against your ear and cheek. You nod, closing your eyes. Brady curls his knees up a little more so you’re both bent closer to a fetal position and there’s more relief for your lower back.

“Perfect,” you mumble, wiggling just a little so you’re even further in the cocoon of Brady’s arms. You can feel the slight press of Brady’s cock against the curve of your ass, but even that’s comforting, more so mentally than physically, since it’s proof that Brady still finds you attractive even when you feel your grossest. “How was practice?” You ask, happy to listen to Brady talk while you ignore the twinge of cramps.

He chuckles a bit, his chest vibrating at your back. “Same old,” he says and it feels so good when his chest moves against your back, the soft rumble of his voice in your ear. “Brett says to tell you that Amy’s gonna text you about a viewing party for the away game next week, thinks it’s her turn to host?”

You hum a confirmation, nodding against Brady’s arm. “It is. I get the game when you’re all up in Montreal,” you reply, knowing you’re probably going to have half a dozen texts from Amy when you eventually muster up the energy to pick up your phone. Brady’s hand rubs soft circles against your lower stomach, releasing more of the tension that’s built up without you realizing it. You shift again, stretching your lower back and feeling the giant pad you’re wearing move around. Brady has to be able to feel it with how closely you’re pressed against him and the thought makes you tilt your hips forward, away from his dick, so he doesn’t realize that you’re basically wearing a diaper.

Brady presses gently on your stomach and on your shoulder with his other hand. “Sorry,” he mumbles a little sheepishly, and you wonder why until he continues, “I know you’re not in the mood to have my dick poking at your ass. Swear I’m not that guy that’s worried about getting off when you’re feeling so crappy.”

“Oh!” You bite down on your lip to smother a little smile even as your nose burns with hormonal tears. Honestly, it hadn’t even occurred to you that Brady would think you were shifting away because of him. “No,” you rush to reassure him, twisting your neck so you’re looking at him from an awkward angle. “I’m not…I didn’t think…oh fuck, I just didn’t want you to, you know, have to feel everything that’s going on,” you wave at your lower half with one hand vaguely, “down there.”

“Sweetheart,” Brady’s lips quirk up in a little smirk, “I’m thirty years old, I don’t have any issues with what you’ve got going on. Besides,” he chuckles a little before kissing your temple, “I’ve seen the box of pads under the sink.”

Your entire face flushes hot and you grumble, “well, let’s just not talk about that.” Brady laughs again and kisses your hot cheek. It’s almost unnatural how sweet he is, but you suppose after the string of terrible boyfriends in your early twenties, this is what it’s like being in an adult relationship with an adult man.

“How about you close your eyes and try to nap?” Brady suggests. He subtly pulls you closer again, until your ass is back where it belongs against his semi-hard dick. His thumb strokes an arc under your belly button and you sigh, warm all over from Brady’s body curled around yours. “I know you tossed and turned all night.”

“Sorry,” the words get lost in his bicep, your cheek pressed against the fabric of his t-shirt. “Tried not to move so much.”

Brady’s hand moves in lazy circles against your skin and he keeps you pressed tightly against his chest. He’s functioning like the world’s greatest weighted blanket. When he replies, his breath ruffles the little pieces of hair escaping your messy bun. “Should’ve woken me up, I would’ve spooned you until you fell asleep again,” he sounds almost hurt that you didn’t wake him up.

“Next time, I’ll wake you up,” you promise, pressing a soft little kiss to the inside of Brady’s bicep, brushing your nose over the soft skin. His arms tighten around you and you feel him kiss the back of your head.

“Just wanna be there for you,” he says, yawning a little. The yawn is contagious and your jaw cracks a little with the effort. Brady tucks one leg in between yours and you settle back, your head resting under his chin.

You must fall asleep at some point, because when a sharp, persistent cramp stabs at your abdomen, sending you curling forward in a tight little ball, the sun is a little lower in the sky and blinding you from where it peeks out under the partially opened blinds. Brady’s arms are still wrapped around you, keeping you mostly in place even as you’re pressing your hands to your lower stomach to try and alleviate the cramps. Whatever brief reprieve you had during your nap is gone now, the pain back with a vengeance, and you groan a little, waking Brady from his nap.

“Bad again?” He asks, voice rough with sleep. The arm around your chest drops flat down to the mattress and you roll a little onto your stomach, pressing your hand tightly against it. His other hand is caught in between your body and the mattress, tangled in the waistband of your shorts. He wiggles his fingers ineffectually.

“Mhm,” you mumble into the pillow your face is pressed against. “C’n you give me Advil?”

“Yeah, whatever you need,” Brady rolls onto his side and hangs his upper body off the side of the bed to scoop up the bottle of Advil off the floor. He pops the top off and starts shaking pills into his hand before stopping and squinting at you suspiciously. “Wait, how many have you had already?”

“Two?” The lie comes out as a question and Brady rolls his eyes at you, lips twisted in an amused expression.

He cups his hand and drops the pills back into the bottle. “You want to try that again?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and leaning back to set the bottle on your bedside table.

You roll back onto your side, facing Brady, and poke your lower lip out in a pout. “Okay, so maybe it was like five or six, but I think I know how many Advil I can handle, Brady,” you can’t help the sharp edge that colors your response. The cramps are a stabbing pain, radiating through your lower back and hips. “Just give me one at least.”

Brady reaches out and settles his hands on your hip to pull you closer. He huffs your name on an exasperated sigh. “No way, your liver’s going to give out if you take any more Advil. Come here and I’ll give you a massage, see if that helps,” he says already rubbing one large hand over your lower back. His thumb digs into a particularly sore spot and you let out an involuntary moan, gasping a little. The muscles in your back are so knotted and stiff that even Brady’s gentle touch is painful.

“I…s’not gonna help,” you whine, wiggling under his touch. Tears fill your eyes involuntarily. “Hurts too much.” You exhale a harsh breath and roll away from him, wincing when you sit up. You have to change out your pad and moving might help. Brady doesn’t say anything, but you can feel him watch you as you rush off to the bathroom, hunched a little when another sharp stab of pain grips your stomach. Fuck this. One-tenth of the pain of actual childbirth contractions? If that’s true, you’re making sure you’re completely knocked out when you have kids.

You don’t linger in the bathroom, cleaning up and getting yourself ready to crawl back under the covers, making a mental note to see your gynaecologist again and harass her about a possible endometriosis diagnosis. Because this shit is just not natural.

Brady’s propped up against the headboard, his phone in his hand. He looks up when you come back into the bedroom and you’re not entirely sure you love the look on his face. He holds up his phone, displaying the screen even though you can’t see the webpage, and says, “you know, orgasms are a natural way to get pain relief from cramps.”

You’re shaking your head before Brady’s even finished talking. “No, no way. I’m never able to get myself off properly anymore, I’ve been spoiled,” you shoot him a mock glare and his smile turns smug. You continue, cutting him off when he opens his mouth, “And! It’s gross, I’m gross, I’m not letting you anywhere near me. All the blood and…and…well, stuff.”

Hands on your hips, you stubbornly remain standing at the foot of the bed, shaking your head at Brady. He tosses his phone onto the mattress and gets on his knees, crawling down the bed towards you. “Sweetheart, a little blood doesn’t bother me,” he waves his hand in the general vicinity of his face, where a cut across his nose is still healing after he took an elbow to the face two games ago. The resulting nosebleed had been fairly epic, to hear him tell the story. “Plus, I want to help you. Let me help you feel better.” He sits back on his heels and wiggles the same hand in the air, fingers splayed. “You know I’m good with my hands.”

He is REALLY good with his hands. And your poor swollen cunt throbs a little, arousal building low in your stomach despite everything else happening in your body.

“I’ll make it good for you, sweetheart,” Brady promises, looking earnest as hell. “If it doesn’t work, we can go back to Advil overdoses.”

Reluctantly, and chewing at your lower lip, you nod. “Okay, yeah, I guess we can try it,” you sigh. Truthfully, you’ve never tried to orgasm yourself to pain relief with your periods. It always felt so messy and gross.

Brady nods and hops off the bed, “I’ll be right back.” He disappears out into the hallway, leaving you standing at the foot of the bed, wondering just what you’re getting yourself into. You can hear a closet opening and closing and then Brady’s back, holding an old, but still semi-plush towel in his hands. He pushes the comforter on your bed to the side and spreads the towel out. You look at it and wrinkle your nose. This is going to be such a mess. But another cramp sends your stomach into a spasm and you grit your teeth. Okay, whatever it takes to relieve some of this pain.

“Come on,” Brady’s hand rubs wide circles over your back. “I’ll prop up and you can lean against me, okay?”

You nod and Brady’s on the bed, in the same position he had been before - propped against the headboard and legs spread wide so there’s room for you. “I’m keeping these on,” you huff, snapping the waistband of your shorts before crawling onto the bed. “It’s already going to be a mess, I want to keep everything contained.”

Brady laughs, “we both know it’s not the first time I’ve made you come while you’re fully clothed.” He pauses, smirks. “And it won’t be the last time.”

Your face heats up again and you push gently at Brady’s shoulder, “shush, you. This is so embarrassing.” You gingerly settle in the vee of Brady’s legs, stiff and sore. He kisses the crown of your head and gently tugs on the back of your sweatshirt so you’ll relax back against his chest.

“Why are you embarrassed?” He asks, running his hands over your thighs and up your hips. Your stomach clenches a bit when he slowly works his hand up your shirt and brushes his knuckles against your abdomen. He knows not to go any higher than your waist, that your breasts are so sore you’ll cry if he touches them, but he touches everywhere else. “I told you, I’m thirty years old. I’m not grossed out by your period, sweetheart. I hate that you’re in so much pain and if I can do anything to help,” one hand slides down the front of your stomach and his fingertips dip beneath the waistband of your panties, “I’m going to.”

His fingers slide lower and you tense a little, knowing he’s going to hit up against the pad and even though he’s so chill about it, you’re not. “Relax, sweetheart,” Brady murmurs into your ear, kissing your cheek. “Let me take care of you.” You nod faintly, forcing yourself back against Brady’s broad chest, feeling the hardening ridge of his erection against your lower back. That helps, and when Brady’s fingers finally start to stroke your swollen, sensitive flesh, you shudder a little and then relax completely. His movements are maybe less firm than usual, his fingers slipping around a little more. He takes his time, finding your clit easily and circling it with the tip of his index finger.

“Oh, Brady,” you gasp his name, sliding down his chest a bit, opening your legs wider so he has better access. Your eyes flutter closed and Brady’s free hand rests on your left inner thigh, holding it open.

“Doing so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles, angling and reaching forward. His middle finger is at your entrance, carefully pressing inside. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

You shake your head. Heat is building in your stomach, the throbbing between your legs overtaking the pain of your cramps. “Not enough,” you sigh, breaking off into a little gasp when Brady’s thumb presses a little more firmly over your clit. You blink rapidly, his fingers slipping too easily from where you need him. “I…more…s’fine. Put your fingers in me, Brady, please.”

Brady’s middle finger slides in, deeper and deeper until the knuckles of his other fingers are pressed against your folds. “Whatever you need,” Brady says, running his other hand over the outside of your thigh. Your legs start to tremble and he pumps his finger and out of you, sliding easier than he normally would with just your arousal to help. You try not to think about the kind of mess his hand is going to be covered in. He crooks the finger and taps against your inner wall and your stomach clenches.

“Oh!” You gasp, clenching around his finger. “More, Brady. I’m so…I need more.”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, taking his free hand and brushing your hair off your face. He kisses your neck, sucking gently while he wiggles his ring finger up next to his middle finger inside your cunt. His thumb ghosts over your swollen clit and you bite back a moan, grinding down on his fingers. “Come on, sweetheart. You feeling good? Tell me what you need.”

“Faster,” you whine, your stomach tightening with every pump of Brady’s fingers. The sound his fingers are making as they work in and out of you is obscene even when it’s partially muffled by your shorts, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when it feels so good. Brady wraps his free hand around your thigh, pulling it open slightly so he has more room to work. His hand is trapped by the constraints of fabric and can only move so fast. But the pace he’s pumping into you is perfect. His fingers slide deeper inside of you, pressing against your g-spot and your toes curl against the mattress, a low wail escaping from your lips. You clamp your mouth shut, face flushing hot with embarrassment at how loud you’re being.

Brady keeps pumping his fingers, murmuring in your ear, “go ahead, sweetheart. Be as loud as you want while you come for me. Scream, let me hear you.”

He flicks his thumb over your clit and you scream his name, your entire body going taut as he works his fingers harder, bringing you right to the edge. Your orgasm builds low in your stomach, a coil of heat and tension. His fingers curl and you finally let go, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that loosens your entire body. It’s not the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had, but it’s strong enough, making your brain a little fuzzy and sending endorphins rushing through your veins. Your head drops back against Brady’s shoulder and he peppers your exposed neck with soft kisses. He mumbles terms of endearment against your skin, encouraging your orgasm with his words as his fingers continue to work you through the aftershocks.

You slump back against Brady’s chest and his free arm wraps around your waist. “Feeling better, sweetheart?” Your legs are a little shaky and you stretch out, inadvertently clenching around Brady’s fingers.

A satisfied hum leaves your throat even as Brady sucks in a breath from the feeling of being knuckles deep in your cunt. His cock stirs against your lower back and in the back of your mind, you feel a little bad for him, that he’s going to have to use his hand in the shower. But your cramps have settled to a minimal ache that’s completely bearable, so you tuck your head under Brady’s chin and mumble, “thank you, baby. That was perfect.”

“Happy to be your personal orgasm provider,” Brady chuckles, pulling his hand from the waistband of your shorts. You wince at the blood that streaks his skin, reddish-brown and dripping down to his wrist. Behind you, Brady shrugs a little and wipes his hand on the towel under your bodies. He kisses the side of your head. “Sweetheart, gotta clean up for a minute. I’m gonna go clean off and uh, take care of something.”

The ‘something’ is pressing insistently against your lower back and you manage a soft hum of empathy as you lean forward so Brady can slide off the bed. He snatches the towel out from under you in one smooth move, balling it up in his hands. “Mhm, clean your hand and come back, I’ll take care of you,” you offer sleepily. The orgasm has your head fuzzy and your entire body relaxed.

Brady kisses your forehead and you slump against the pillows. “Take a nap,” he grins against your skin. “I’ve got this.”

You hum again, wriggling against the warm sheets. Brady chuckles lowly and you hear him pad off into the bathroom. The shower turns on and you can imagine Brady stripping down to nothing, his cock jutting out proudly, stepping under the spray and gripping himself. Your clit gives a faint throb at the mental image - honestly, it could be a memory with how often you’ve had sex with Brady in that shower - and you press your thighs together. Now that your cramps have faded away and the initial embarrassment and awkwardness of sex on your period is cleared from your mind courtesy of Brady’s fingers, you’re feeling horny. Mingled with the sleepy haze, you can’t really do too much about it except press your thighs tighter together and listen to Brady’s grunts and moans that the running water can’t cover up. You press your face into the pillow, wiggling and clenching around nothing, biting down hard on your lower lip when Brady’s strangled ‘fuck!’ echoes from the bathroom a few moments later.

The water shuts off and you’re feeling more awake, the fuzz in your brain from the orgasm fading away. You can hear Brady moving around in the bathroom and he emerges a few minutes later in a cloud of shampoo and Dove soap scented steam. He’s back in his grey sweats and black t-shirt, with the towels balled up under his arm. His hair is damp, darker than usual from the water, and slicked off his face, which is tinged pink from the hot water. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, all of your blood pooling between your legs.

“Thought you were gonna nap?” He says, eyes twinkling.

You manage to shake your head. “Not sleepy,” you say, rolling onto your side.

Brady’s grin is teasing as he comes to stand at the side of the bed. “Guess I didn’t do my job well enough,” he jokes, leaning one knee down on the mattress, making it dip under his weight. His warm, broad palm comes to rest on your cheek, thumb swiping over your cheekbone. “Let me throw on a load of laundry and order some dinner for later, then I’ll come back and cuddle, okay?”

“Okay,” you sigh, leaning into his touch. You lick your lower lip and Brady tracks the movement, but says nothing. He nudges your cheek with the knuckle of his index finger and heads out of the bedroom. You watch him leave, eyes locked onto his stupidly firm ass. With a frustrated exhale, you slump further back into the pillows, surrounded by Brady’s scent. You yawn, surprising yourself with how quickly your energy levels shifted the second Brady was out of the room. You let your eyelids flutter shut, figuring you’ll just get in a quick little nap before jumping your boyfriend.

By the time Brady slips back into bed, you’re more than halfway to sleep, eyes closed and limbs loose. He settles himself on his side of the bed and you gravitate towards him naturally. “Warm,” you mumble, tucking your head under his chin and pressing the tip of your nose against the hollow of his throat. Brady’s arms tighten around you, the best kind of weighted blanket.

“Ordered Chinese for later,” he tells you quietly. “With extra fortune cookies.”

“My hero,” you grin sleepily against his skin. He’s really so warm, like a personal radiator, and you sling your leg over his hip, notching your core against his groin without really comprehending it. The stretch feels good on your sore hip and lower back muscles and Brady slots one leg over yours, his muscled thigh pressing gently against your cunt. He can feel the warmth of you through the leg of his sweats and his cock twitches behind the fabric.

“Anything for my girl,” he says, stroking your hair and back, lulling you right to sleep in the warm cocoon of his embrace.

It’s not a very long nap, less than half an hour, but you wake up feeling semi-refreshed. Your cramps are starting to increase in intensity again and you’ve shifted while you slept so that you’re pressed flush against Brady’s half-hard cock, leg wrapped snugly around his hip. His thigh is pushed against your cunt, making it throb. He smells so fucking good and one of his hands is resting low on the curve of your ass. You wiggle experimentally and Brady laughs above you, his chest vibrating.

“Was wondering how long you were gonna sleep,” he says, bringing his hand over your hip to run against the outside of your thigh. “You’ve been making these little noises,” he continues and he sounds half tortured. “Little sighs and grunts. Feeling okay?”

You can’t think, not with his thigh in between your legs, his cock nudging against you. Your stomach flips, not with the cramps though, and you grind yourself over his thigh. Brady’s hand moves to grip your hip, helping guide you over his thigh. He laughs a little, “guess I have my answer. You want more than this, sweetheart, or you just want to use me?”

“I don’t know,” you tuck your chin to your chest, your forehead pressing into the hard edge of his collarbone. Your hips move and it feels good but it’s not enough, not with the extra layer of your pad between you. You can’t get enough friction and you whine low in your throat. “Brady, need you, please, I don’t…” you babble, trying to figure out what you need even as heat builds low in your stomach. The hand that isn’t on your hip falls to your ass and kneads gently, his fingers digging into your skin.

Brady drops a kiss to the crown of your head and mumbles, “okay, sweetheart, I’ll take care of you. I’ve got you.” He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You plant your palms flat on his chest and grind brazenly against his cock, sighing happily at the increased pressure. His hands grip at your hips and he helps you grind down harder, “this good for you, sweetheart? You going to get off like this?”

You shake your head against his chest - no, this isn’t enough for you. It feels good and the tension is building in your stomach, a gush of arousal and, likely, blood flooding between your legs. It’s like the feeling of sneezing on your period, but worse and you almost hate it. “Can I - can,” you stumble over the request, knowing that it’s gross, starting to feel embarrassed again. “Ugh,” you frown into his shirt, rolling your hips against his like a teenager, “I need more, Brady.”

He nods seriously and lifts you gently off of him, setting you on the mattress. When you whine at the loss of contact and grab at his shirt, he clicks his tongue and says, “trust me, I’m going to give you everything you want. Just gotta get another towel, okay?” He untangles your fingers from his shirt and kisses your fingertips before practically hopping out of bed and beelining for the linen closet. He’s back before you can process, laying out the towel and pulling you to the edge of the bed. Brady tugs at the waist of your shorts, “these are coming off and then you’re gonna tell me how you want it. You want me on top or is that going to be too much?”

His voice is soft with concern for your pleasure and a shiver works its way down your spine. You wiggle your hips and reach for the waistband of Brady’s sweats, curling your fingers beneath the fabric. His cock tents the front of the sweats, a perfect imprint in the fabric for you to stare at. Brady’s big and he knows it, knows that when he gets going it’s a pleasure-pain sort of stretch. When you ride him it’s a little easier to control the pace and how deep he can hit. A cramp ripples through your lower stomach and back and you wince, making a decision.

“Wanna be on top,” you chew at your lower lip, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of Brady’s sweats and brushing against the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

“Whatever you need, baby,” he grins, certainly not going to object to having you ride him. He hisses when your fingertips graze his cock, twitching under your touch. He pulls you to your feet and wraps his arms around you in a tight hug, the pressure easing some of the soreness in your body, before ducking his head to capture your lips with his. You melt into his arms, licking at his lower lip until he opens his mouth for you. Liquid heat rushes through your body, warmth pooling low in your stomach. Brady deepens the kiss and moves a hand up to tangle in your hair. He tugs gently, manoeuvring your head to the side so he can change the angle of the kiss.

You sigh into his mouth and Brady turns so he can sit down on the bed after he breaks the kiss. “Pants off, sweetheart,” he grins, scooting back so he’s sitting on the towel, his back against the headboard. He tosses all the pillows to the other side of the bed so they can stay clean.

Your heart is still pounding in your chest from the kiss and you only hesitate briefly before you shimmy your shorts down your legs, kicking them off your ankles and off to the side. “You next,” you grin, another flood of arousal pooling between your legs when Brady gives you that cocky smirk you love so much. He pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it to the floor and messing up his hair. A few strands fall over his forehead and he makes no move to brush them to the side. The fading sunlight glints against the greys and another pulse of desire throbs through you.

His hands fall to his crotch and he grabs at himself through the grey fabric, emphasising just how big and hard he is. With a groan, Brady grinds his heel over the base of his cock through the fabric, a little damp spot from his pre-cum turning it a darker grey. He makes a show of it, pulling the waistband of his sweats down one side of his hip and then the other, the red, leaking tip of his cock appearing above the elastic. You lick your lips again and Brady lifts his hips off the mattress so he can pull his sweats down further, tucking the band under his balls and letting his cock spring free. He’s thick and hard and curves towards his stomach. His balls are full and heavy looking, resting on the band of his sweats and it’s stupidly erotic, the fact that he’s keeping his pants on.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping a few times to get himself as hard as possible, “sit on it and I’ll make you feel good.”

Even as arousal floods between your legs, you hesitate, thinking of the mix of blood there as well. “You’re sure?” You ask, twisting your fingers in the sleeves of your sweatshirt. Brady’s hand is still wrapped around his cock and you can barely focus on anything other than the pre-cum leaking from the red, angry looking tip. Your clit gives a painful little throb in time with a twinge of a cramp in your lower stomach. Your body knows how it feels to have that broad head of him push past your folds and it’s reacting.

Brady leans forward, his hand falling away to rest on the mattress, “hey, if you don’t want to, I’m good. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with, sweetheart.” He smiles, eyes crinkling up at the corner, “I’ll make myself presentable and we can watch TV or something.” His cock bobs in his lap, bumping up against his stomach and to his credit, Brady barely winces at the sensation against his sensitive tip.

His willingness to go along with your mood changes only makes you want him more, so before you can second (or third) guess yourself, you rush into the bathroom to wiggle out of your panties and get rid of the pad, hurrying back into the bedroom with your thighs clenched together so you don’t get anything on the carpet. Brady’s lips are pressed together to suppress a little laughter at the way you’re moving and you roll your eyes at him. “Laughing at me isn’t very nice, Mr. Skjei,” you huff with faux annoyance.

Brady opens his arms and cocks an eyebrow, “I would never laugh at you.” His gaze drops between your legs and you flush hot.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you grumble. “I’m not wearing pants.”

“That’s exactly why I’m looking at you,” Brady teases in a low voice. He pauses and mutters, “oh fuck,” before leaning to his side, reaching for the drawer on his bedside table. “Should’ve done this while you were in the bathroom,” he mumbles, withdrawing a condom.

“It’s like you’ve never done this before,” you tease with a giggle, watching Brady’s movements like a hawk. His fingers deftly tear into the foil and wrap around his cock again so he can roll the condom over his length. He pumps himself a few more times and it seems like his cock swells in front of your eyes, filling the latex obscenely. You press your thighs together tighter, throbbing and ready to sit on him.

He mock glares at you, “making fun of the man who’s planning on giving you multiple orgasms to help your cramps is a low move, sweetheart.” He crooks his fingers at you. “Now come here so we can get to work on that pain relief.”

Your stomach tightens and you shuffle over to the bed, awkwardly trying to get up onto the mattress without dripping everywhere. “Brady…” you can’t help the little whine that escapes your lips and he takes pity on you, leaning onto one hip and wrapping his hands around your waist to haul you up on the bed. You kneel at his side and throw your leg over his lap, straddling him with your back to him. As soon as you open your legs, it feels like a tidal wave of liquid, even though you know that’s not how it works. At worst, a few drops of blood and arousal make their way down your inner thighs and you know they’ll be stopped by the fabric of Brady’s sweats. Even still, you feel impossibly exposed.

“What are you doing?” Brady asks, smoothing one hand down over your ass cheek and giving it a quick squeeze. His other hand is warm on your outer thigh. “I don’t get to see that gorgeous face?”

“No,” you huff, hovering over him with your knees planted on the mattress on either side of his thighs. “I don’t want you that deep, it’s going to hurt.”

“Okay,” Brady kisses behind your ear, “whatever you need, sweetheart.” He grips the base of his cock in one hand and rests the other hand on the curve of your hip. “Ready?”

You nod, chewing at the inside of your cheek, your inner thighs already trembling. Brady lines himself up at your entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging against you. You sink down on him with a sigh, the stretch of him filling you forcing all the air from your lungs. Behind you, Brady grunts at the feeling of you sinking down on his cock, his grip on your hip tightening. His hand pulls away from his cock and he gets a solid grip on your hips, making sure you don’t sit on him too fast, giving you time to adjust. Inch by inch, you take him, bracing your hands on his thighs in front of you.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Brady rasps an encouragement in your ears, holding your hips like his life depends on it. “That’s it, let me fill you up.”

It’s so easy to have him slide into you, easier than usual due to the extra slickness from your period. You can feel the mix of your blood and arousal drip down your thighs, surrounding his cock.

You babble his name, gasping when you sink down onto the final few inches of him, your ass making contact with his lap. He’s fully sheathed inside of you, thick and hard, still so deep despite the position that you imagine you can feel him all the way up to your throat.

Brady’s still underneath you, the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your thighs as he lets you get adjusted. You lean back against his chest carefully, the underside of his cock rubbing pleasantly against your swollen clit. A soft whine works its way up your throat and Brady’s hands trail from your hips down to the inside of your thighs, pulling gently to open you up further. “No, no,” you mumble, “too wide. Too much.” You squirm on his lap, trying to catch your breath from just the sensation of Brady keeping you full.

“Doing so good, sweetheart,” he kisses your neck, gently rolling his hips up into yours, making you gasp. Your nipples tighten into painfully hard points, desperate for Brady’s hands. “Tell me what you need.”

You grind down on Brady’s cock instead of responding, slowly riding him to build up the coil of pleasure in your lower stomach. You clench around him and Brady grunts into your hair again, fingers flexing around your thighs. “Fingers, Brady, I need…” you mumble, head thrown back to rest on his shoulder. “More, need more friction.”

The slow glide of his cock in and out of your cunt, against your clit, is pleasurable, but not nearly enough. Brady’s fingers are on your clit in the next second, pinching gently, and you gasp out his name, arching your back and forcing his cock deeper into your cunt. “Yes, yes, there. More…please, B-brady!”

“So fucking wet, baby,” he murmurs, one hand on your hip to help you ride him. His fingers work deftly over your swollen clit, sliding around easily. He bends one knee, planting his foot on the mattress and driving his cock even deeper.

You yelp, leaning forward to brace yourself, fisting the material of his sweats. “Stop, too deep, too much,” you whine, pushing at his knee so he’ll flatten his leg again. He compromises, straightening his leg a bit, but still keeping it partially bent. You breathe heavily, panting as you ride Brady’s cock. Pleasure builds in your lower stomach, hot and tight, growing as Brady’s fingers keep sliding over your clit, his cock thick in your cunt. He glides his hand over your back, down over your ass cheek, kneading your flesh.

“Come on, baby,” he encourages you in a strangled voice. “Use my cock. Know you can do it.”

You grab Brady’s wrist, holding his fingers against your clit, pressing down for friction and Brady takes the hint, rolling your swollen nub between his fingers, keeping his hand in place between your legs. Still gripping his wrist, feeling his muscles and tendons move under your fingers, you bounce on his cock. The sound is obscenely wet, filling the bedroom, louder than your breathless little moans and whimpers. Brady’s hand is tight on your hip, guiding you up and down on his cock while he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“Brady, please, faster….I need….” you break off, chanting his name when he bucks his hips up into yours, meeting you thrust for thrust. His cock swells inside of you, painfully thick, and you reach down with your free hand to stroke at his balls, skimming your nails over the sensitive skin. Brady moans against your neck and his hand moves from your hip, wrapping his forearm around your lower stomach, adding more pressure and guiding you to lean forward slightly. Your nipples brush painfully against the fabric of your sweatshirt and you yelp, clenching involuntarily around Brady’s cock.

He thrusts up into you, thumb planted firmly on your clit and tears roll down your cheeks from the simulation, grinding down on Brady’s pelvis. You let go of his wrist and brace yourself on his thighs again, leaning forward and bouncing on him, the underside of his cock sliding against your clit. That, combined with Brady’s fingers, sends you over the edge, black spots dancing in front of your vision as your orgasm rips through your body. You chant Brady’s name, barely coherent while you rock on him, his cock hitting deep. Brady’s palm presses flat against your lower stomach and you let go, feeling your body gush around his cock.

“So good, sweetheart,” Brady murmurs, sounding dazed. “Keep riding, honey, take what you need.”

You cry out when he thrusts up into you, overwhelmed by sensation, but don’t stop circling your hips over his. Your brain is melted into a puddle of sensation, all of your nerve endings on fire as you clench around him again and Brady’s abdomen tenses. He hauls you flush against his chest when he finishes, shouting your name and filling the condom with cum. He reaches down and grasps the base of his cock, pumping himself into you and filling the condom faster. The warmth of it is different than when you decide to forgo the condom, but you still hum happily in Brady’s arms, stretched wide over his cock, your thighs trembling on either side of his lap.

“Brady…” you mumble his name, turning your head to bury your face in his neck while he fills the condom. Your hands grasp at his forearm wrapped around your waist and he peppers your face with soft kisses, grunting into your mouth when he’s wrung dry.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he mutters against the corner of your mouth. “Got carried away at the end,” he brushes his knuckles against your sensitive clit and you shiver in his arms. “So fucking hot and wet.”

“S’okay,” you slur your words, your body coming down from the orgasm and leaving you limp against Brady’s chest. “I liked it. Felt good - feels good,” you amend, clenching absently around Brady’s softening cock. Every thought and sensation other than being filled up by Brady is gone from your head. He laughs against your skin and you can feel him wipe his hand off on the towel under his ass.

Your thighs and ass feel wet, sitting in a mixture of blood, your arousal, and Brady’s cum, and you wrinkle your nose a little, shifting on his lap. You can’t help but look down at Brady’s lap and you regret it almost immediately. His lap is soaked in your combined fluids, the grey of his sweats stained red. His cum is leaking out of the condom, out of your cunt, and dripping down his balls to pool on the towel. “Oh, Brady!” You yelp, less drowsy now, trying to scramble off of his lap. “Your sweats, the towel!”

Brady adjusts his grip on you so you can’t go very far. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve never liked these sweats anyway,” he jokes, gently manhandling you so he can slide out of your cunt and pull off the condom. He ties it off efficiently and makes no comment about the mess of his hands and lap.

“Well I liked them,” you pout, cheeks heating up for a different reason. “This was such a mess.”

“Are your cramps gone?” Brady asks, carefully swinging his legs to the side so he can stand up. You’re still pressed close to his chest, on your feet too now, thighs pressed together to prevent anything getting on the floor. The towel on the bed looks like a crime scene. Brady lets go of you briefly so he can tug his sweats up to rest on his hips, but then his hand is on your hip again, nudging you towards the bathroom.

“Yes,” you reply, toddling on shaky legs.

“Then it was worth it,” he leans down to kiss your cheek. “Get in the shower, I’ll clean up and join you.”

He tosses the condom in the wastebasket and wipes his hand on his thigh - the sweats are clearly a lost cause - before he reaches out and swiftly pulls your sweatshirt over your head. You shiver at the cold air on your sensitive nipples and Brady grins at you, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. You wrinkle your nose, but nod, bracing yourself for Brady’s tongue to flick gently over one nipple. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he presses a soft kiss to the swell of your breast. “You know I feel bad not paying attention to your entire gorgeous body.”

Despite the sensitivity, both nipples tighten just from Brady looking at them and you resist the urge to cross your arms over your chest. He’s seen everything, there’s no point in being embarrassed. You reach behind you and turn the shower on, making sure the knob is on a high temperature. “Don’t even bother trying to save the towel,” you sigh, “just toss it.”

“That was the plan,” Brady winks, kissing your forehead before disappearing from the bathroom. He leaves the door open behind him and once you step into the shower - groaning in pleasure when the scalding hot water hits your sore muscles - you can see him in the mirror, wadding up the towel and stripping the sheets from the bed. You really hope the sheets aren’t ruined since they’re beyond comfortable.

“Just swapping them for fresh ones,” Brady calls out to you, apparently a mind reader now.

You smile to yourself and focus on scrubbing shampoo into your hair, the eucalyptus scented steam relaxing your entire body. By the time you’re rinsing and repeating, Brady’s stepping into the shower behind you, sliding warm broad hands over your waist. He leans in and brushes his nose against your ear, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin at the hinge of your jaw.

“Hi,” you giggle, wiggling a little in his grip. Your legs are shaky.

“You smell good,” he mumbles, massaging at your lower stomach. You lean into his touch, still trying to work shampoo into your hair.

“I always smell like this,” you reply, ducking your head under the spray and letting the suds wash down your body. Brady’s fingers trail along with the soap, drawing lazy patterns against your wet skin. You shiver under his touch, unsurprised when the familiar tingle of pleasure starts at the base of your spine, in between your legs.

Brady notices the subtle move of your thighs and he lets his fingers trace the crease of your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Smell like mine,” he murmurs. “My girl.” His fingers move to the left, mere inches, and tease at your entrance. The tip of his middle finger circles your clit, still swollen and sensitive and you can’t believe you’re about to let him give you a third orgasm.

“Brady,” you gasp his name a little, closing your eyes against the sensation. Your hips cant towards his fingers, chasing his touch.

“Sweetheart,” Brady groans against your neck, his cock twitching against the back of your thigh. “Gotta let me feel you. No mess in the shower.”

He continues to slowly, gently circle your clit, making your brain fuzzy again and your knees week. You press a palm against the shower wall to hold you up, but there’s no chance of falling, not with Brady’s arms wrapped securely around you. You whine when Brady’s finger slips inside your cunt, curling gently.

“Feels good?” He asks, massaging at your lower stomach with his other hand. You nod against his shoulder. “Good,” he continues, “just want you to feel good.”

Brady’s usually chatty during sex, but this feels different, his words alternating between concern and filth, his fingers working their way over your clit. You can feel yourself dripping for him, slick and hot. “Brady, Brady… p-please,” you hiccup the words when he grinds his hardening cock against the split of your asscheeks. “Give me more.”

You plant both of your hands on the wall and widen your stance, feeling Brady line himself up at your entrance. The broad head of his cock slides through your folds, entering your cunt with an easy roll of Brady’s hips. You moan his name, still stretched out from earlier, so the feel of him inside of you is just pleasure. He kisses a hot trail over your shoulders, sucking gently at your pulse point, laughing when he can feel your heart skip a beat at the feeling of his fingers pressing against your clit.

“Feels so good,” he groans, thrusting into you, more gently than you’d expect. The drag of his cock against your inner walls has you clenching around him, arching your back, pressing your ass firmly against his pelvis. One of his hands holds your hip in place while he thrusts and the other snakes down your stomach to play with your clit. Brady’s fingers bump up against his own cock and he grunts, choking off the noise. You can feel his cock twitch from the contact.

Honestly, if you had known that being on your period would make the both of you this horny, you might’ve given in to period sex months ago.

Brady drives his cock into you deeper, punching air from your lungs in a sharp gasp. Your head falls forward, chin to your chest, and you watch with hazy vision as Brady’s cock splits you open. Water drips down your face, into your open mouth, nearly drowning you until you spit a little, angling your face away from the stream.

You’d barely come down from your last orgasm when Brady shuffled you into the shower, so it’s easier for him to build up this one. Pleasure works it’s way through your body, your clit throbbing under Brady’s touch, and before you know it, before you can really focus on it, he’s bullying that third orgasm from your body. Fingers and cock working together to send you over the edge. “Come on, sweetheart,” Brady talks you through the orgasm. “Go ahead, scream, cum on my cock.”

You shriek his name, fingers scrambling on the wet tile for purchase as Brady rocks his hips up into yours, rolling your clit between his thumb and index finger relentlessly. Nonsense words spill from your lips while Brady keeps up his pace and it’s only a few more heartbeats before he’s tightening his arm around your waist, his stomach muscles pulling taut, and spilling inside of you. He groans and drops his forehead to your shoulder, his hair flopping forward and brushing your skin. Brady’s fingers only stutter in their movements when he jerks to a finish inside of you and by then it’s too overwhelming so you reach down to push his hand away, whining that it hurts.

“Sorry, sorry,” Brady mumbles against your shoulder, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss there. He pulls his hips back a little, his softening cock slipping from your cunt and releasing a flood of his hot cum down your inner thighs. You shiver at the sensation, rubbing your thighs together a little and looking down to see the drips of blood and cum wash off your legs and down the drain. “Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head, dizzy and exhausted. Brady’s palms skim up your stomach and sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, and he turns you so he can kiss you on the mouth. You melt into his touch, warm and pliable for him. Brady kisses the corner of your mouth again, a soft little peck, before he says, “okay, let’s get you cleaned up for real this time.”

A mumbled noise of agreement leaves your body and Brady keeps you propped up with one thick arm around your waist while he gently soaps you up and helps you rinse off. He gives his own body a quick scrub, paying extra attention below the belt, giving you a little smirk when you watch him clean himself up. You lean against the shower wall on shaky legs, letting the hot water keep you warm. You watch him shower, muscles bunching under his skin, and blurt out, “god, I love you.”

Brady rakes his hand through wet hair, slicking it off his face, and looks at you with warm brown eyes. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he grins. He leans forward and brushes his lips over your forehead before turning the water off and reaching an arm out of the shower to grab one of the big fluffy towels that wait for you. He wraps you up, rubbing his hands over your arms to warm you, and once he’s confident that you’re grasping the towel around your body, he gets a second towel to wrap around his waist. From there, you let yourself be taken care of - Brady leaves you alone in the bathroom to grab you a pair of panties, handing them to you with a knowing smirk, before leaving again so you can get yourself settled with a pad. He’s dressed in a pair of boxers and a worn out University of Minnesota t-shirt when you eventually pad into the bedroom after lotioning up your entire body.

“Sweats or shorts,” Brady holds up both items of clothing and you reach for the pair of his joggers that he offers, wanting to be bundled up and cozy even though it’s not that cold out. You step into the sweats while Brady attempts to pull one of his shirts over your head, only for you to get tangled up in the fabric, blinded by the cotton, and tip forward with a little squeak of surprise. Brady grabs you before you can fall onto the bed, hands hot against the bare skin of your waist. “Ah, shit! Sorry, sweetheart,” his voice is muffled from the fabric around your head and you wiggle from his grip, tugging the shirt down so you can breathe again.

“You already killed me with orgasms,” you huff on a laugh. “No need to actually try and kill me.”

Brady laughs and lifts his hands in the universal sign for surrender. “I’ll let you handle getting dressed,” he chuckles. “Undressing you is my specialty anyway.”

You snort a laugh, managing to get yourself dressed and comfy, the sleeves of Brady’s shirt hanging over your hands. “No more undressing tonight,” you sigh, twisting your wet hair into a loose knot on top of your head before crawling into bed. “I’m tapped out, done, ready for a pile of lo mein the size of my head and a solid eight hours.” You fluff up your pillows and draw the comforter into a little nest shape around your body, curling up like a cat and yawning so wide your jaw cracks.

“Lo mein, I can promise since the delivery should be here any minute,” Brady replies, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. “Eight hours of sleep? Well, if three orgasms doesn’t wear you out enough, I’ll go for four tomorrow.”

You shoot him a sly little smile, even as your eyelids fall slowly closed. “four orgasms? Might have to start complaining of cramps all month long.”

Brady’s laughter fades out as he heads downstairs to check if your food’s been delivered. You snuggle into your little nest of blankets, feeling warm and impossibly relaxed, like all the stress and tension’s been completely removed from your body. You’re pleasantly sore between the legs and you stretch out a little, impatient for Brady to return so you can eat and cuddle up against him.

The mouth-watering smell of Chinese food precedes Brady’s return and you pop up into a sitting position like a cartoon animal, wide awake. Your stomach growls a little too. Brady laughs loudly at the expression on your face. He’s got two white cartons in his hands, a bottle of Gatorade under one arm, a wad of paper towel tucked in the crease of his elbow, and two pairs of chopsticks stuck into the top of one of the cartons. “You’re wide awake now, huh?” He asks, handing over one of the cartons and snatching his hand back like he’s afraid you’ll chew it off. He settles down next to you with his own carton, placing the Gatorade and napkins down on his bedside table.

“I am suffering, Brady,” you inform him primly, shoving a wad of noodles into your mouth and chewing happily.

“Poor thing,” your boyfriend pouts at you, taking a bite of his orange chicken. “And here I thought I helped you so much.”

You swing your legs over to drape over Brady’s thigh and lean in to kiss his lower lip. “Oh, you helped very much,” you grin against his mouth. “You’ve been such a big help.”

Brady laughs into your mouth. “See, now I know you’re teasing me, sweetheart. I might not be so generous with my help next time.”

You fake a gasp, “you wouldn’t!”

“Nah, you’re right, I wouldn’t,” Brady leans in to whisper against your ear, “not when I know how needy you are on your period. Or how easy it was to slide into that sweet, wet cunt.”

Lo mein noodles slip off the end of your chopsticks and your entire body flushes with heat. “Brady…” his name leaves your mouth on a shaky exhale and he laughs, rests his hand on the inside of your knee, and leans back against the headboard. His thumb draws lazy circles on the inside of your knee and you shiver a little.

“I’m here for your free use, sweetheart,” he offers, toasting you with the carton of chicken and rice. “Just say the word.”

You kick lightly at the outside of his thigh with your heel, still flustered. “Insatiable,” you murmur, unable to deny the flutter of interest in your lower stomach at Brady’s words.

“You love it,” Brady counters, feeding you a piece of orange chicken. You hum, not about to lie to him, and lean forward to get closer to the heat Brady’s radiating off his body. You’re both quiet for a bit while you eat, trading bites off each other’s chopsticks. You sip at your mostly warm raspberry Arizona, starting to feel sleepy again from the food and the warmth off Brady’s body. You don’t even realize that your head is drooping forward to rest against Brady’s bicep until he gently takes the mostly empty carton from your hands and sets it on the bedside table.

“Hey, time to sleep a little,” he says softly, lifting your legs off his lap and straightening them out so your entire body shifts.

You hum, eyes shut, and press your face into your pillow, scooting around and getting comfortable. Brady pulls the comforter over your chest, making sure your back is covered and you’re cocooned in the warmth. You reach out a hand from the covers and grab Brady’s wrist, wiggling your fingers until he laces his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses your fingertips. “I’m going to clean up, get some stuff ready for tomorrow, and I’ll be back,” he says against your fingers.

“Best Brady ever,” you mumble through a yawn, hearing his chuckle.

He strokes a piece of hair off your forehead and you’re passed out before he can let go of your hand and climb out of bed.

Cuddled under the covers, you don’t quite manage an uninterrupted eight hours of sleep, but when you wake up in the middle of the night with Brady’s entire body wrapped around yours, legs tangled together, heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek, you don’t really mind.

#brady skjei #brady skjei x reader #brady skjei x you #brady skjei fic #brady skjei imagine

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