pairing: shane hollander/ilya rozanov/cliff marleau
explicit, 5.8k
tags: threesome - M/M/M, spitroasting, face-fucking, dom/sub, boston public transit does not show up in this fic despite all appearances
Ilya suggests it a few days after Shane had come so hard he almost choked for real: the dildo they had suctioned to the headboard halfway down his throat, Ilya deep in his guts from behind.
"You want Marly to fuck your face at the All-Star game?"
Cliff keeps sending links to threesome porn. Ilya gets an idea.
"The doors will open on both sides of the train. Thank you for riding the T."
soooo I've decided to start posting a new fic..... 🙈
A lil backstory! This is originally the fic I wanted to write for my Inky/Cullen, but I was convinced I couldn't do it justice. A year later I am still stuck in DA hell so I thought I might as well take a crack at it, turns out, I was able to crank out 41k words for a decent backlog, so here we are! I hope to post regularly here since I have so much written already!
if you're a fan of any of these tropes....you might like what I got going on in my fic!
art by meeee
Check out: Rutherford, In Name Only on A03!
i hear the words bounce around in my head. words i was told the first time i was kneeling in front of one. “just put your mouth on it!”
maybe it was easy back then. now there’s so much more to it. bits of advice, demands, and expectations that i’ve picked up since then.
“practice makes perfect”. i squat in front of the dildo i’ve stuck to the wall. 8 inches of silicone right in front of my face. “just put your mouth on it” i slip the head between my lips. “use your tongue” i circle the tip, feeling the realistic texture i remember paying extra for. “you don’t need your hands” i keep them open facing up on my thighs. “dont stop till you reach the balls” i push my head towards the wall, getting about halfway before i feel my own resistance. “gagging is hot” i push the rest of the way forcing myself to ignore how i tense up as i gag. “hold it slut” i count to 5 in my head before i let myself pull back. “keep it in that hole” i stop back at the head swirling around it again. once the pain subsides i push back down. “no teeth” i smack my own face and make sure not to feel my teeth on it again. back and forth i push and pull my head. i don’t take it out of my mouth until im seeing spots. “what do you say?” i thank my dildo for letting me suck it before repeating my cycle. i feel tears on my face but “its hot when you cry”. i feel spit on my tits but “its better when its messy”. i know im making a puddle beneath me. “you dont need to touch yourself when you blow me dont be greedy”. i keep my hands on my thighs.
the growing number of ways to improve keep filling my head until i hear my timer go off. 10 minutes have passed since i first squat down. i pull my mouth off the dildo and thank it again before removing it from the wall, wiping it down, and putting it up. i lap up the puddles i’ve made with my tongue. “dont leave a mess”. i stare at myself in the mirror. i’ll practice more later tonight. “practice makes perfect”
i might be a little stupid (but it's okay, you are too)
(buddie) (1.2k words) i have nothing to say for myself idk
The way Maddie says it, it kind of sounds like she thinks it should be obvious. It’s not obvious. It’s not even true, actually, because if it’s true then Eddie has no idea what to do with it. And he can’t—Buck is the stability in his life. He’s the anchor, the foundation, the crossbeam that keeps the roof from collapsing in the wind. So it’s not true. He says as much to Maddie.
“You’re both—” Maddie cuts herself off with a frustrated noise. “I should have listened to Howie. You’re both impossible.”
Eddie shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, he’s not.”
Maddie sighs. “He is. He really, really is. And you—never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She blows a stray lock of hair out of her face.
And yeah, she shouldn’t have. Not because Eddie’s upset, but because it’s not true. Buck absolutely is not in love with him. He’d know. So it’s fine.
It’s fine until it isn’t, because a day later Buck is grinning at him like he hung the moon, and it’s so obvious that Eddie has no idea how he ever missed it. And he still doesn’t know what to do with it. But Maddie was right. Buck’s in love with him.
.
“Maddie, can you stop?” Buck asks, nearly sloshing the wine out of his glass as he gestures. “It was funny, the first couple of times, but—”
“I wasn’t joking!” Maddie interrupts him. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Why are you like this?”
“Me!” Buck exclaims. “You’re the one insinuating things.”
Maddie blinks at him. “Buck. I’m not insinuating anything. I’m telling you. He’s in love with you.”
Buck throws his head back dramatically, knocking it into the cabinets. Ow. “Did Chimney put you up to this? Is this his idea of a prank, because—”
Maddie drops her head to the counter, burying her face in her arms. “No,” she says, muffled by the fabric of her sweater.
Buck rolls his eyes. “Sure,” he says. Eddie isn’t in love with him, obviously. He’d know. So it’s fine.
.
Buck keeps looking at him. And that’s not abnormal, necessarily, but now that Eddie’s paying attention, he’s starting to notice it happens a lot. Buck, catching his eye when he walks into the room. Buck, glancing at him before he does anything at a scene. Buck, making eye contact any time he finds something funny. He’s just—always looking.
And it’s not like Eddie isn’t looking back. He is, obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t have noticed, but it’s different. Especially right now, because Buck’s very clearly watching him over the top of his book, but every time Eddie catches him at it, he goes right back to pretending to read.
It’s infuriating and endearing in equal turns.
.
Eddie is always there, Buck’s starting to realize. He’s at his elbow on every call, in the kitchen when he’s making coffee, in the bunks when he’s trying to sleep. That last one might just be because they’re mostly stuck with the same sleep schedule on shift, but still. He’s starting to think Maddie might be right.
Which isn’t a problem, necessarily, so much as it is an idea that feels almost impossible to wrap his head around. It’s just—it’s Eddie. Buck knows Eddie better than he knows himself. It’s kind of hard to believe he missed something this huge. But—
He gets this look in his eye, sometimes, one that Buck had only ever really categorized as warmth, but that he’s now realizing is reserved exclusively for him. So, okay. Eddie might be in love with him. Maybe.
.
They’re going to have to talk about it, obviously, so Eddie drags Buck home with him after shift. Not that it’s very hard. He kind of just tilts his head toward the truck and Buck follows him.
Buck’s eyes are on him the entire drive. He’s pretty proud of the restraint he shows, waiting until the front door closes behind them to start talking.
“So—”
“I’m—”
Buck huffs an amused breath. “You first,” he says.
Right. “Maddie said something,” Eddie blurts.
“Okay?” Buck says, drawing out both syllables.
“She said that you—” Eddie swallows, mouth suddenly, inexplicably dry. “She said you’re in love with me?” It comes out as a question.
Buck’s eyebrows climb higher on his forehead than Eddie thought was possible.
“And it’s fine,” Eddie says in a rush.
“She—”
“Seriously, Buck, I’m not like,” Eddie flaps his hand in place of an actual end to his sentence.
“Eddie, you—”
“No, really Buck, it’s—"
“She said you’re in love with me!” He exclaims.
Eddie’s brain short circuits, just a little bit. He hadn’t—he hadn’t actually considered that. At all. “She—what?”
“She said you’re in love with me, and honestly Eds, I think she might be right.”
“Since… when?” Eddie manages to get out.
Buck throws his arms in the air. “I don’t know, you tell me!”
“Maddie told you I’m… and you believed her?” Eddie asks.
“Not at first, but I mean,” Buck gestures vaguely.
They’re in Eddie’s house, but there’re traces of Buck everywhere. It’s his handwriting on the grocery list in the kitchen. He’s in half of the framed photos that adorn the walls. Buck’s sweatshirt is draped over the arm of the couch, and he isn’t the one who wore it last. Huh.
“So,” Buck says, looking at him expectantly, “are you?”
“Are you?” Eddie shoots back, borderline hysterical.
Buck opens his mouth and closes it. Blinks a few times. “I… am I?”
“I mean,” Eddie says, mirroring Buck’s earlier gesture.
Buck looks around and frowns. His brow furrows, and Eddie finds himself wanting to smooth it with his thumb. “Eddie,” Buck asks faintly, “are we stupid?”
It startles a laugh out of Eddie, and once he’s started, he can’t stop.
“It’s—it’s not—not funny,” Buck protests as he fails to suppress a giggle of his own.
“No,” Eddie gasps, bracing himself against Buck’s shoulder as he doubles over in laughter.
“St-stop,” Buck honest-to-god giggles. His fingers fist in Eddie’s shirt. “We have to—have to—” Whatever he was going to say, he can’t get the rest out.
Eventually, Eddie straightens enough to look Buck in the eye, and slowly catches his breath. All at once, he’s aware of how closely together they’re standing. “Buck,” he says, soft and warm and—
He can hear it in his own voice. He is. He is in love with Buck and it’s absurd, because how could he possibly have missed that? How could Maddie have known before he did?
“Eds,” Buck says. His fingers release the now-wrinkled fabric of his shirt, but his hands stay on Eddie’s waist. There’s a sparkle in Buck’s eyes that Eddie’s seen so many times, and not once before has he ever thought to examine why he’s so drawn to it.
“I think we’re a little stupid,” Eddie breathes.
.
“Told you,” Maddie says, watching Buck as he laces his fingers with Eddie’s.
Chimney snorts. “That you did,” he says. “They would’ve figured it out eventually. Probably.”
Maddie shakes her head. “I’ve never met two people who were so stubbornly opposed to their own happiness.”
“Eh,” Chimney says, “I think they were happy. They’re just happier now.”
Maddie laughs lightly and lets her head fall to Chimney’s shoulder. “Yeah,” she says. “They are.”
