──── 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹
SYNOPSIS — what’s better than a boyfriend? Two boyfriends who spoil you rotten the day of your birthday. You can ask them anything you want… and you do so in the bedroom, where Shane and Ilya will give you the ultimate birthday gift.
CONTENT WARNING — f!reader, established poly relationship, canon divergence, consumption of alcohol and tobacco, reader has some tattoos, dry humping, voyeurism, bit of throat-fucking, rough sex (m/m), mirror sex, brat taming, use of a d!ldo, tit sucking, size kink because yes <3, spit and cum used as lube (don’t do this at home, please), spit kink if you squeeze, multiple orgasms, quirofilia (I’m afraid my fixation with hands really shows here), v4ginal sex with a lil’ twist, aftercare ‘cause our boys are sweethearts <3
WORD COUNT — 4.4 ; ao3 link!
ANYA'S CORNER — this fic can be interpreted as a second part to this one; also, if I had a nickel for every time I wrote a fic settled in a nightclub with reader’s boyfriends, I’d have two nickels... which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice (truth is, I love nightclubs’ vibes, not their crowdedness lmao)
P.S. — the same disclaimer I put in the first part applies here, too; that being said, enjoy and bye! <3
Your boyfriends really outdid themselves. Not only did they wake you up that morning by bringing a giant cake to your bed, then gave you some of the best presents you’ve ever received, oh no.
The greatest gift came in the form of a surprise birthday party at your favourite nightclub in Montreal.
How they managed to do that without spoiling anything, you didn’t know.
What you did know, though, was that you were surrounded by the most important people in your life, including your friends. Some of them you befriended at your old job, but most of those who were at the club tonight were part of your boyfriends’ friends’ inner circle.
Someone put a drink in your hand.
Turning, you saw Svetlana and Elena a few inches from you, the bright lights almost blinding.
“Birthday drink for the birthday girl.” Svetlana said in a singsong voice, her curls a fiery halo around her face.
With that, you were at your fourth tequila shot of the night, yet you were still reasonably sober.
You flashed both girls a smile, then chugged down the alcohol. Elena clapped her hands and all but dragged you and Svetlana on the dance floor.
While making a bee line to get there, you managed to stop long enough to give Shane the little glass and steal a kiss from Ilya.
They were both sitting at the bar counter, their gazes never leaving you.
“Join us, my loves,” you breathed, hand stretched towards them. “The dance floor is waiting for you.”
“In a bit,” Ilya smiled, his dominant hand on Shane’s thigh. “We want to watch you dance with your friends.”
You pouted, eyes shifting to Shane. Out of the two, he was the one who folded faster whenever you asked for something.
“Are you sure? Work kept us apart, lately. We haven’t seen each other a lot, this week.”
After Shane gave a quick look to your outfit and sighed — according to him and Ilya, you looked a little too good in flared jeans, high-heeled boots and the velvet top Yuna got you for Christmas —, his eyes softened as they landed on your pouty face.
“I know, but we need to discuss something about next month’s match, first. Go ahead, we’ll be with you soon.”
“Come,” Elena rolled her eyes and took you by the hand as she said loud enough for them to hear over the music, “Let them plot while me and Svetlana show you what a good time truly looks like.”
And with that, the girls spanked you at the same time, making you giggle. “Incorrigible, the two of you.”
Still, you looked over your shoulder as you reached to the dance floor. Even if they feigned indifference, you knew them too well not to notice they’d been staring intently at your ass.
You had to admit it: they were right. Those jeans hugged your every curve just right.
And you were going to use every weapon in your arsenal to make them drop the act.
Sandwiched between the girls, you had to shout over the music to inform you were going to take off your jacket. They stepped aside as you shook the leather jacket off your shoulders.
A collective gasp behind you.
“When did you get this?”
You ditched the piece of cloth on the nearest chair and smiled.
“Last week. It healed quicker than expected, but it itches.” You knew your friends’ eyes were on your freshly tatted back, as two other pairs were, too. “The tattoo artist gave the all-clear to keep it uncovered, so here we are.”
“Girl.” Without touching them, Elena traced the fine lines inked on your skin with her fingers. The design started from the shoulder and ended just below the hipbone.
“You got a damn tiger tatted on your back a week ago and didn’t think to tell us? Wait. Did Ilya and Shane know about it?”
“I think they do now. Look at their faces.” Svetlana pointed out with a smirk.
The three of you turned and it took a lot of effort from your part not to run to your boyfriends and kiss them both stupid.
They were shocked, aroused and pissed off all at the same time. You had wanted to surprise them later, in the intimacy of your bedroom, but they had left you with no other choice.
Blowing them a kiss, you started to dance with the girls, hypnotized by the flashing lights around you.
Two men flanked you, Svetlana and Elena as another song started to play. To your surprise, they weren’t Shane and Ilya, but another couple you had cherished for forever.
“Guys, you made it!” You all but flew in Scott’s open arms, while Kip hugged Elena and smiled at Svetlana.
Considering your line of work, you had crossed paths with Hunter’s team more than once and, over time, a friendship blossomed between the two of you.
Then, when the bond deepened, Scott introduced you to Kip, and you fell deeply for the barista.
No wonder Scott loved him so much.
“Happy birthday, gorgeous,” Scott happily huffed as he wrapped his arms around your middle, careful not to touch the tattoo. They'd seen it from afar as the entered the club, Kip informed you.
“So, how does it feel to be old?”
“Funny, shouldn’t you be answering that?” Laughing, you slapped Scott on the shoulder, signalling him to put you down. Once he did, Kip came to stand by his husband and kiss your cheek, wishing you a happy birthday.
After saying hi to the girls, the hockey player asked: “Where are your debouched boyfriends, anyway?”
“Right ther-” You cut yourself off.
They were not at the bar counter, anymore.
“Uhm…” Svetlana’s voice focused your attention elsewhere, right on the dance floor.
Shane and Ilya were dancing some meters away from your group.
And as the teasers they so loved to be whenever you acted like the brat you so loved to channel, they were grinding against each other, backs turned on you.
“Oh,” Kip commented, blushing. “Did you fight or something?”
Stunned, you picked your jaw up from the floor and inhaled so profoundly you felt your lungs adhere against the ribcage. Those two got back at you in the nick of time.
“If we hadn’t before, we will once I get my hands on them.”
Svetlana looked at Elena, then turned to you. “Wanna give them tit for tat?”
“You don’t even have to ask.”
Elena smiled, waved at your friends to stay there to enjoy the show and dragged you and Svetlana a scarce meter away from your boyfriends.
“Let’s see how long they can resist having to watch you while you touch somebody else.”
You didn’t need to be told twice.
First you leaned against Svetlana, and she grabbed you by the hips, laughing, while you mirrored her movements. All while Elena danced close to you both, her eyes beaming with mischief.
Not even bothering to see if Ilya or Shane were watching, you turned to look at Scott and Kip from across the dance floor.
And if the hockey player’s smile was anything to go by, then you were dead certain your boyfriends were going to be livid.
Good.
“Come closer.” Elena prompted with a little grin.
As you did, the dark-haired beauty candidly kissed Svetlana’s cheek, then brushed her lips against yours.
“Остопизденеть.” boomed a very familiar voice beside you three.
“Wow, that didn’t sound nice.” Elena looked at you and Svetlana. “Did he just cuss me out?”
Svetlana shook her head, her own flirty demeanour suddenly reignited by Ilya’s exclamation.
“No, don’t worry. It’s more like ‘I’m so sick and tired of this shit’ sort of thing.”
The girls giggled, but you? Oh, you were having the time of your life.
As the icing on the cake, Scott and Kip joined you for an impromptu shot battle; as you linked both arms with the men’s, one shot in each hand, something in the air shifted.
Pretending you didn’t notice anything weird going on — or that a pair of hands you would’ve recognised everywhere had got hold of your hips —, you stared directly into your boy friends’ souls and smirked.
“On the count of three. One, two-”
Blonde, long curls was all you saw as one of your shots disappeared behind them. Ilya drank the tequila as if belonged to him all along, indifferent to everyone’s annoyance.
“You really got to stop doing that, Ilya.” Svetlana told him in Russian, because you had told her and Elena what he had done the first night you met.
He ignored her and, unflinching, he angled your head upward to meet his hungry eyes, then furiously pressed his lips against yours.
Still dazed by the stunt he just pulled, you melted into the kiss, but it took you a while to understand what he was doing.
He hadn’t swallowed the shot, rather he was making you drink it directly from his mouth.
Again.
“Double shots for the birthday girl, right?” Shane whispered in your ear. “Wait for the other one, now.”
You fought back a moan yet regained your sanity by pushing them both away to drink the shot still tangled with Scott’s arm. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction to see you all hot and bothered so soon.
Then you leaned low enough for Kip, Hunter and the girls to let them hear you say, “If by tomorrow at noon you don’t hear from me, just know I will be passed out in my king-size bed. Come rescue me, please.”
“Nah, I think you will be exactly where you want to be, girl.” Kip commented with a sly smile.
His husband nodded and ruffled your hair like the gentle-mannered giant he was.
“Go get them, tiger.”
“You’re so not funny.” You wailed, then turned to Svetlana and Elena. “Girls?”
“Sorry, babe,” the auburn of Svetlana’s hair burned as bright as her eyes were shimmering with malice. “I’m catching an early flight to Boston.”
“And I’m working all day. Go be with your men, love.” Elena added.
All pleas fallen on deaf ears, you waved your friends bye and went to retrieve your leather jacket, ready to accept your fate; needless to say, both Ilya and Shane were shadowing you.
They continued to do so in silence even after you got home and undressed.
Clothes discarded on the floor, and still in your underwear, you climbed onto the bed, crossed your legs and stared back at them.
“Well?”
“Well, what?” Shane asked.
“Are you just going to stand there and do nothing?" You clarified and pointed a finger at where they were. “The night’s still young, you know.”
“We might,” Ilya crossed his arms and tilted his head. “You lied to us. You deserve no other gift.”
“Oh, come on! I didn’t lie per se. I was just waiting for the right moment to disclose this to you,” you turned to show the tattoo in all its glory. “But you missed the clue. I had to improvise.”
“Still, no sex for you tonight.”
For me? That’s oddly specific, you thought to yourself with sudden clarity.
Then you noticed the boys’ bulges and a huge, gigantic wave of insolence washed over you.
Smiling, you jogged to where they stood and patted their erections with the back of your hand, eliciting soft moans from both.
“Go on, then. You can have the room. Once you’re done, you can join me in the living room.”
Your fingers fished around Ilya’s back pocket for a second, then grabbed the cigarette packet. “But I’m taking this with me.”
Before taking it out, however, you gave his ass a good squeeze.
As you pulled back your hand, though, Shane wrapped his fingers around your wrist and yanked you closer.
“You picked up a nasty habit.”
“And whose fault is that?” you purred, unwavering, eyes diverting to Ilya. “Have fun, my loves.”
You tried to get past them to reach your living room, you really did, but they both had moved with the efficiency of a well-oiled machine long before you realised what they were doing.
You ended up on the bed again, but before you could attempt to get up once more, Ilya’s hand was on your stomach, pinning your whole body to the mattress.
“No, no, no. You stay. You watch.”
His lips touched your ear shell gently as his fingers played with your panties’ lacy front. “Shane is good boy and he deserves to be fucked by me. If brats like you don’t behave, they get nothing.”
Instead of stinging, the words went straight to your core.
Leave them to toy with your arousal without lifting a single finger.
Yet you held your ground and pushed your chin upward in defiance.
“What are you waiting for? Do your worst. Tame me.”
Totally unfazed by your arrogance, Ilya unzipped his jeans and his cock slapped against your lower stomach.
The sheer girth of it always had your mind buzzing, but this time you had no time to do it because he positioned himself right above you, one of his hands grabbing the headboard as the other tapped your chin.
“Open.”
And you did as Ilya ordered with narrowed eyes, taking every inch with ease. You’d done it plenty of times by now.
Still, you found yourself gasping for air when he suddenly thrusted into your mouth, the tip bruising the bottom of your throat.
“Fuck.” Shane was now at the side of the bed, eyes gone huge. “Are you sure you’re not choking her?”
“Of course. I’m teaching lesson to her, and she is loving it, trust me.” was Ilya’s cooly response, totally contrasting with the white-knuckled grip on the bedhead.
He was unbelievably hard in your mouth, every little movement a fine stroke on his flesh.
Out of frustration, you moaned around him and a string of Russian curses escaped his lips. The hand on your stomach raised to get in your hair.
“Behave.”
And with that, Ilya started pummelling in your throat, quickening the pace as he felt you growing restless underneath him.
“Look at this,” Shane’s index pressed against your throat, right where the indent of Ilya’s cock was. “You’re taking him so, so well.”
“True,” your other boyfriend agreed, punctuating that matter of fact with a sharp thrust that left you breathless. “But you will do better.”
Rozanov halted his movements and got off slowly, leaving you to yearn for more.
Astonished, you watched as he extended a hand towards Shane. The dark-haired man spat on Ilya’s palm, then moaned as he was hauled closer by the Russian to start a heated kiss that had both backing off to your wardrobe’s mirrored doors.
After stroking their erections together with his spit, Ilya turned Shane on the stomach, then stroked his girth with what was left of his and your saliva.
And as you finally regained control of your body, hand sneaking to the cigarette packet, Ilya eased himself in Shane with a single, relaxed thrust.
Both panted at the same time, but Shane was a goner as soon as Rozanov started to thrust deeper, one of his hands pushing his boyfriend’s face against the door as the other one pumped his cock.
You had just lit a cigarette and brought it to your lips when the two stared at your sprawled form on the bed through the mirror. Shane’s laboured breath had fogged the surface, yet his eyes had been on you for a moment before Ilya delved harder repeatedly, each thrust matching the equally maddening pumps of his dick.
You fought against the brutal need building in you to touch yourself while watching them, an act you’ve been doing since the three of you became an item.
Ilya and Shane had talked you into doing it more often, to be honest, for you had considered it an intrusion of their privacy for the longest time.
“This is such a sensitive topic… I don’t want you to think I’m fetishizing you or anything like that.” You’d been on the verge of tears when you had told them that three months earlier, the three of you lounged on Ilya’s couch.
“You both are gorgeous as hell and I adore the life of you, that’s why I have the impulse to do it, but I’d understand if you feel uncomfortable. Plus, I know people talk behind my back about my relationship with you two, it’s just that I don’t want to caus-”
Shane had stopped your yapping with a finger to your lips. “Fuck them. We don’t give a shit about anyone else’s opinion but yours. If you want to do it, do it.”
“But-”
“He’s right,” Ilya had guided your hand between your thighs, his thumb dragging along the crotch seam of the jeans. “Don’t feel bad about it, because we do not. We like when you touch yourself.”
Green orbs met yours in the clouded mirror, cutting through the memory. As always, he knew Shane’s body language as well as yours.
“Do it.”
One hand sneaked past your panties, fingers quicky spreading your other lips apart as you watched your boyfriends love each other. Moaning at the sensation of being filled, your fingers slotted inside you, you timed their rhythm with Ilya’s thrusts.
They were both so close to their orgasms that you could feel Shane’s moans in your bones, as you did with Ilya’s.
“Wanna cum for me, baby?” Ilya breathed in his ear and Shane keened in response, a hand grabbing his ass to go faster. The other one flew to the mirror door, leaving a sweaty handprint on it as Rozanov did take up pace, the tempo he set so frenzied it made the whole wardrobe shake.
Shane came with a panting whimper, legs trembling as the orgasm washed over his body.
Ilya held him but didn’t stop thrusting until he shoved his face against Shane’s neck and cursed, his own release coming down on him as hard as the other boy’s. “You let your hair grew too much, Hollander. It tickles.”
“Fuck off, you love it.”
When they both returned to planet Earth, Ilya removed his hand from around Shane’s erection to lick it clean. The Russian teaser was aware of his effect on his lovers, so it came as unsurprising when Shane got another hard-on.
“Later,” Ilya kissed him. “We have other thing to do, now.”
“Uhm.” Shane turned to look at you and smiled. “I need to rest a bit, first. You fucked my brains out.”
You had another puff of the cigarette, the other hand still buried between your thighs, when Ilya walked over to you.
“Did you like it, birthday girl?”
“Not as much as Shane. You did fuck him stupid.”
The aforementioned gave you and Ilya the finger, yet he wasn’t as offended as he wanted to sound like when he stated, “Stop stroking his ego or his head will grow so much he won’t be able to put a helmet on again.”
“You two can stroke other part of me,” Ilya cooed, his gaze fixated on your panties. Well, what was left of them, anyway. The flimsiness of the underwear didn’t go unnoticed.
His smile grew impossibly bigger. “You’re soaking wet. You like us a lot, uhm?”
“Duh.” You rolled your eyes; both observations were the understatements of the century. “Hey, how did you get so good with dirty talk in English?”
“Audiobooks.”
As if that answer sufficed, he put out your cigarette in the ashtray on the bedstand and hovered over you once more. He tried to nudge away your hand but failed.
“Take off panties.”
“No.”
He narrowed his eyes, tone as deep as he could drive himself into you and Shane. “I’m not asking again. Take them off, or I will not play nice.”
Suppressing an irritated sob — as a new wave of slick painted your thighs —, you removed your fingers.
But the brat in you awakened with a fierce roar.
Mischievous as ever, you lifted your hand to his face, tapped on the lower lip and the moment his lips parted, your fingers glided inside his mouth.
“I said no. You do it.”
An exasperated but very horny sigh from Ilya, the sound reverberating around your drenched fingers as he sucked on them, the taste of your arousal as intoxicating as Shane’s.
“Still haven’t lost the attitude, have we?” your other boyfriend asked, completely compelled by the scene playing in front of his eyes to do nothing more but sit by the bed, voraciously eating up every second.
“Ah, my love. We all know you’re the angel, here. Rozanov and I are the imps who corru- Ilya.”
All thoughts went down the drain because the fair-haired demon’s mouth was now on your clothed nipple, sucking and biting through the lace of the bra as if his life depended on it.
He used a hand to knead the other one, his fingers pinching and rubbing and- my God.
He took a breather just to stare up at you and growl, “I warned you”, then continued the relentless attack.
You grabbed him by his hair and mewled, the orgasm you denied yourself to watch them come rushing back to light your entire body on fire.
“Close already?” Ilya asked innocently as if he hadn’t started that whole mess himself in the first place. “But brats don’t deserve to come so soon.”
His entire presence vanished from over you.
You hadn’t realised you had your eyes closed until you opened them again to glare at your boyfriend.
“You just fucking didn’t.”
“Oh, I did.” He indulged in the sight of you, bothered and a breath away from coming just by having his mouth on your tits. “First, I want to try something. Shane.”
You whipped your head in his direction as he leaned towards your nightstand and opened the bottom drawer. Already see where it was going, you squirmed and tried to get away.
All to no avail, because Ilya’s hand was pinning you down again.
“Guys, come on…”
“Ah, not so brave anymore,” Ilya motioned for Shane to pick up the object you kept in that specific drawer and made space for him to join you two on the bed. “The feisty kitten got her nails clipped, yes?”
“I will claw both your backs while you sleep if you don’t stop teasing me.”
Your self-control crumbling before their very eyes, both your boyfriends shared a meaningful look.
Two things happened at the same time: Shane spat on your beloved blue-purple dildo, coating its entire size while Ilya’s teeth came to grab your panties, pulled it down your legs as his fingers went behind your back to unclasp the bra.
Now completely naked, underwear tossed somewhere behind them, Ilya gestured for you to get up; too riled up to disobey, you obliged.
“Get on your stomach.”
Again, you did as he ordered and changed position to get on your hands and knees and then down, back arched enough to draw a moan from both men.
“Beautiful.” Shane brushed his fingertips against the tiger. “Can’t believe you didn’t tell us the moment you got it.”
“I wanted to,” eager to feel them closer, you pressed your ass against Ilya’s cock, its tip poking at you. “Didn’t wanna spoil the surprise, though.”
It was Ilya’s turn to touch the tattoo. “It suits you. With this view, we can’t wait to fuck you forever.”
A startled scream bubbled in the back of your throat as he pushed inside you, your inner walls so sleek he hadn’t needed to prep you further. He buried himself to the hilt, balls pressing against your skin.
“Ssh,” Shane cooed and without missing a beat, he slipped in the dildo under Ilya’s girth, stretching you out in ways you hadn’t experienced before. “You’re doing well. Breathe.”
“And she likes it, too.” A playful slap on your ass, Ilya rotated his hips to help you adjust to the new feeling. “She is clenching like crazy around my cock.”
“S-shut up.” You stuttered, out of breath, as you accommodated both lengths through gritted teeth.
By the time you did, you shot a glance to your boyfriends and grinned. “Go on. Isn’t what you were waiting for?”
Shane and Ilya moved in synchro, coordinating their antics to never leave you empty, but at some point, they were always inside you at the same time.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I’m cl-“
“Yes, me too,” Ilya gave a sharp thrust as he bent down to kiss between your shoulder blades. “Come around us, pretty girl.”
You were tensing around them all too soon, the so-long denied orgasm slammed against your ribcage so violently you fell on your front, lower back still encased by Ilya’s hands as he and Shane continued ramming into you.
Eyes watery with pleasure, your head turned to look at them kissing, and a strangled moan from your part was all it took for Shane to remove the dildo and for Ilya to do the same.
He came on your back with a slow hiss, careful not to hit your tattoo.
Meanwhile, your other boyfriend had disappeared into the bathroom for a minute or two, walking back to you both with hot towels and the soft promise of a warm bath.
He helped you and Ilya clean yourselves, then awarded you with a smile. “Let’s get you into the bathtub.”
“Can’t soak into water for long. The tattoo…”
“I have you, don’t worry. Come on.”
With that, Shane lifted you by the back of your thighs as you, too spent and sated to function properly, got carried by him into the bathroom.
He eased you into the tub as Ilya got behind you, his fingers already in your hair to detangle it; Shane, on the other hand, was giving little pecks to your scrunched nose.
“I really need to get a jetted tub. Enough space for you both to fit.” Your voice came off slurred, almost a whisper.
Both men kissed your face, then Ilya beamed. “You are pro at that, already. We have no complains.”
“Idiots,” you scuffed, raising both arms to pat their annoyingly beautiful faces. They were beaming with sheer adoration. “You’re lucky I like you.”
Shane squeezed the hand on his cheek.
“Liar. You love us.”
As always, they were right.
© nyimasu — do not copy, translate, repost and modify my works.
