Fuck this
Summary: Shane, Ilya and You are close friends for years until the ice breaks on that one night and they did more than laugh on jokes and only exchange touches.
Dom!Ilya Rozanov x DomShane Hollander x Sub!Fem reader
Warnings: Use of alcohol, dirty talk, pet names, oral, threesome, rough sex, squirting, p in v, MMF
word count: 2k & write me for requests (Minors don’t read this)
The bar’s haze of smoke and low thrum of bass pulsed like a heartbeat, drawing you deeper into the night with Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov—your unbreakable trio, forged in the chaos of hockey seasons and late-night confessions. Shane’s massive frame dominated one side of the booth, his calloused hand occasionally bumping yours as he laughed at Ilya’s crude jokes. Ilya, all lean muscle and piercing eyes, lounged on your other side, his leg hooked casually over yours under the table. You’d shared everything: wins, losses, secrets. But tonight, the air thickened with unspoken hunger, their gazes stripping you bare long before any clothes came off.
Shane’s fingers lingered on your wrist as he handed you a shot, his touch electric. “You’re killing me in that skirt,” he rumbled, his voice dropping an octave, blue eyes locked on the hem riding up your thighs. Ilya’s smirk sharpened as he leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “Da, legs for days. Bet they wrap nice around waist.” The words hit like a spark to dry tinder, your core clenching at the raw edge in his tone. You played it cool, teasing back with a grin, but heat flooded your veins. Their hands grew bolder—Shane’s palm sliding to your knee, Ilya’s thumb stroking your inner arm—until the booth felt too small, too charged.
“Fuck this place,” Shane growled after the third round, standing and pulling you up with him. His body pressed close, the bulge in his jeans unmistakable against your hip. Ilya flanked your other side, an arm snaking around your waist possessively. “Hotel. Now. Need you alone.” Your nod was all the permission they needed. The street outside blurred as they sandwiched you between them, Shane’s mouth claiming yours in a fierce kiss while Ilya’s hand dipped under your skirt, fingers grazing your damp panties. “Already soaked,” he hissed. “Our dirty little secret’s out.”
The hotel lobby was a formality; you barely registered the clerk’s glance as they hustled you to the elevator. The doors sealed, and chaos erupted. Ilya shoved you against the mirrored wall, yanking your top down to expose your breasts, his mouth latching onto one nipple with a hungry suck. Shane ground against you from behind, hands ripping your skirt higher. “Gonna wreck you tonight,” he promised, teeth nipping your shoulder. You gasped, fingers clawing at Ilya’s hair as his tongue swirled your peak, his other hand pinching hard enough to sting.
They dragged you to the suite, the door slamming shut like a starting gun. Clothes flew—your skirt pooled at your ankles, your bra snapped free, their shirts and pants discarded in a frenzy. Naked and ravenous, they pushed you onto the massive bed. Shane’s thick cock bobbed heavy between his legs; Ilya’s curved upward, veins pulsing. “On your knees,” Ilya commanded, his voice thick with accent and lust. You obeyed, ass up, face down, pussy exposed and throbbing.
Shane knelt behind you first, spreading your cheeks wide. “Look at this pretty hole,” he said, spitting on your slit before his tongue plunged in, lapping broad strokes from clit to entrance. You moaned, pushing back as Ilya gripped your hair, feeding his cock past your lips. “Suck hard. Choke on it.” You did, your throat relaxing to take him deep, gagging wetly as saliva dripped down your chin. Shane’s fingers joined his tongue—three thick digits thrusting in, scissoring your walls while his thumb circled your asshole teasingly.
“Bet you can take more,” Shane taunted, curling his fingers to grind your G-spot relentlessly. Pressure built fast, a coil tightening in your belly. Ilya’s hips snapped forward, fucking your mouth with shallow pumps. “Swallow every inch. Good girl, so fucking eager.” The dual assault shattered you—your pussy spasmed, and suddenly you squirted, clear fluid gushing over Shane’s hand and wrist, soaking the sheets. He laughed darkly, not stopping. “Holy shit, she sprayed. Dirty slut, come harder.” Waves crashed through you, your body shaking as you hummed around Ilya’s shaft.
They flipped you onto your back, limbs tangled in a haze of sweat and need. Ilya straddled your chest, his cock sliding between your tits as he pinched your nipples. “Pinch harder,” you begged, your voice wrecked. He obliged, twisting until you whimpered, then leaned down to devour your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. Shane hooked your legs over his shoulders, rubbing his cockhead against your soaked folds. “Gonna pound this cunt till you squirt again.” He slammed in, balls-deep in one brutal thrust, stretching you to the limit.
You cried out, the fullness bordering on pain-pleasure. Shane’s pace was merciless, hips pistoning as he hit deep, his hand pressing your lower belly to amplify every stroke. “Feel that? My cock owning you.” Ilya shifted, shoving his dick back into your mouth while his fingers worked your clit in furious circles. “Mouth full, pussy stuffed—our perfect fucktoy.” The words fueled the fire; Shane’s thrusts grew erratic, his fingers digging into your thighs. The pressure surged again, and you exploded, squirting around his cock, drenching his abs and the bed in hot spurts.
“Fuck yes,” Shane roared, pulling out to watch the spray arc before plunging back in, chasing his peak. But he held off, flipping you to straddle Ilya. His cock speared up into you, hands gripping your hips to bounce you hard. “Ride me like you mean it. Grind that clit down.” You did, rolling your hips as Shane positioned himself behind you, slicking his thumb with your juices before pressing it into your ass. “Relax. Take both.” The double penetration burned sweet—Ilya’s cock throbbing inside your pussy while Shane’s thumb fucked your tight ring.
“Tell us how it feels,” Ilya demanded, slapping your breast lightly. “Two holes filled—bet you’re dripping for more.”
“So full… gonna come,” you gasped, the stretch pushing you toward oblivion. Shane added fingers to your pussy alongside Ilya’s cock, stretching you impossibly. The overload hit—your body convulsed, squirting violently around them, fluid spraying Ilya’s chest as you screamed. Ilya bucked up wildly, his condom catching his load as he cursed in Russian.
Shane wasn’t done. He yanked you off Ilya, bending you over the bed’s edge. “My turn to make you gush.” His cock drove in faster, deeper, one hand fisting your hair to arch your back. Ilya knelt in front of you, his cock reviving for your mouth. “Suck while he rails you.” Shane’s free hand snaked around, fingers vibrating your clit. The rhythm built to a frenzy—the slap of skin, your muffled moans, their grunts. “Squirt for me. Soak my balls,” Shane ordered. You did, the release explosive, your pussy clenching as liquid burst out, puddling on the floor.
Shane followed, slamming home with a bellow, filling his condom. They collapsed around you, bodies slick and heaving, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. The friendship—shattered and reborn in ecstasy, with promises of round two echoing in the dark.
