Who The Hell Is Bucky

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Shane Hollander, Pro Level Cowboy by Itsallfine

such a lovable lamb by FlowerCitti

Boston (Timestamp) - "You look pretty." by Heatry24

if u think i’m pretty by WeeBeastie

Convince Me Either Way by isto4u

Peak Condition by satiricsorcerer

you're so smooth (if you want, you can bite me and i won't move) by seeingwhispers

possessive love disorder by Literal_Multifandom_Trashcan

all his spindly roots by Ruby_Wednesday

Unravel Me, Hollander by justagoofy_goober

I may be bad (but I'm perfectly good at it) by gurlsrool

Weirdest Fucking Team by freakshaped

oh my god you should see your faces by writinginasnowglobe

boy toy by parrylarry

Hollanov's Closet by Chavalala

possessive love disorder by Literal_Multifandom_Trashcan

Мой сладкий мальчик by ghosttotheparty

stay the night by ghosttotheparty

heat sheet by icelyvelvet

lovesick by amongtheshadows

Bite Hard by mcshrug

To the Bone by mcshrug

Bare by NotEvenCloseToStraight

started with a chirp (ended with a bang) by thebiggestrat

missed opportunities by thebiggestrat

training season's over by thebiggestrat

Forever, in ink by mintyhollander

Letting Go, Reaching Out by Anonymous

Do Not Disturb by teeveeactress

is it a video by garagepaperback

Full by AC91

The Kink Klub by SpiderGoose1

Such A Pretty Face (On A Pretty Neck) by NoCoastPosts

Telepathy by orangememory

i can't help it, i want you by lizee

Hold You Close and Keep You Here by averagesquire

The Long Tale of Two Blind Lovers by newtntommy

The Thrills of Loneliness by call3x

perfect match by lisa6

Walls by AC91

spice up your life by sightiff

Just Like The Old Times by MsWhiteandtheRope

Leash 'Em Both by winter1477

Daddy, you make me feel I'm invincible by Badbarista93

A Slap to the Heart by EastEchos

Unhinged love by Madfordinos

You got me Down on my Knees ( Its getting harder to breathe) by Pookiebear_Rozanovs_Slut04

added 6/23/26->

This is part two of the TPACU (the polaroid agenda cinematic universe)

But once it’s their cottage, they start to host every so often. Never for long and really it’s just the girls, Rose coming for a weekend in between shoots. Svetlana coming to visit after she gets back from Russia before preseason starts.

And it gets brought up a few times that maybe they could invite Hayden and Jackie up to visit. Always suggested by Shane and always sidestepped by Ilya. Until randomly, Ilya mentions that he’s going to invite them himself if Shane is okay with that.

And when the time comes, Shane is so excited because Ilya is finally making an effort to be nice to Hayden. And Jackie gets to sit on the couch with a glass of wine while the men cook the food.

They eat outside while the sun sets, and Shane can’t help but hold Ilya’s hand. Rubbing his thumb along Ilya’s knuckles, absentmindedly, while they chat after Ilya and Hayden have cleared their plates away.

It’s an early night, Jackie and Hayden are parents to four after all. So Shane doesn’t have to wait long to jump on Ilya, once they get to their bedroom.

Ilya has been so behaved the entire afternoon, so attentive. So funny and charming and silly. And Shane needs to feel the stretch of Ilya filling him up physically after he'd been filling Shane up emotionally all day.

Ilya seems extra eager to make it about Shane that night. He takes his time as he works Shane open. He's talking a lot, more than usual. Making sure that Shane is being vocal too.

By the time he's pushing inside of Shane, Ilya has gotten him so worked up that Shane can't remember why he needs to be quiet and he's moaning and crying out that he loves Ilya's dick and he fucks him so good.

The next morning, Ilya makes everyone breakfast while Shane rests a little later than usual. Hayden can't make eye contact with Ilya despite Ilya making an effort to talk to him.

Ilya smirks with his arm around Shane while they wave as the Pike's car pulls out of their driveway. Shane is still being so sweet, drunk on the way Ilya had been with his friends.

But Ilya had seen the look on Hayden's face when they held hands at the table. He had seen the face Hayden made anytime Ilya tried to make a connection with Jackie. He had seen the barely hidden eye rolls anytime Ilya gave him a compliment.

Day to day he's got the socially acceptable boxer briefs, dark and sleek, the kind with no digging, pinching band. But even still they grip his thighs too tight sometimes and he just doesn't always want all that fabric. So he has a couple pairs of briefs he'll slide into at home, maybe after a shower when he's tired and his head is buzzy from a long day or a tough game and he wants to feel extra comfy. They're high cut and tiny, they curve around his hips almost like jock strap; the hold is familiar, safe, comfortable. He throws on his softest tee shirt and he makes his tea and he settles in bed with a book, the cool sheets soft against his bare legs. And if he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror -- long, thick legs and the fabric of his tee shirt pooled at his hips, just a sliver of the band of his underwear visible -- and he preens, well, that's no one's business but his own.

Ilya obviously doesn't know about the briefs. Shane never wore them when they met up, Ilya never stayed long enough to witness Shane's nighttime soothing -- he didn't needed it when he was getting fucking into blissful oblivion. He didn't bring any to the cottage, it felt like stacked vulnerability; here's my heart and also my compulsion. And after, there was so much to share, to indulge in, to lay bare that a pair of comfort panties just didn't make the cut. So instead one night Ilya is over at Shane's and it's late and Shane wants to clean up after, of course he does, and Ilya is in the kitchen making his boyfriend's tea when Shane pads downstairs barefoot, shower pink and hair damp, in tiny fucking underwear and Ilya's own tee shirt, a little longer than Shane's, the hem kissing the tops of his thighs. And Shane wanders towards the living room like it's nothing, but he doesn't make it far, Ilya is in front of him, fingers on Shane's hips, sliding under the band of his underwear.

"What the fuck is this?"

And Shane's a little nervous, a little embarrassed.

"I just like 'em sometimes..."

"Like girl, eh?" Ilya teases, because almost nothing gets Shane out of his head and into his rage faster than a chirp.

"Fuck you," he says, "it's basically a jock."

And Ilya can't anymore, his sinks to his knees in front of Shane and he tucks his nose into the crease of Shane's thigh and he trails soft fingers up and down the endless expanse of Shane's legs. Shane's breathing goes stuttery and he's staring down at Ilya half hopeful, half caged, his fingers in Ilya's hair as Ilya begins to mouth at his thickening cock through the cotton.

"I just showered," Shane says, but it's a weak, useless thing between them when Ilya is already dragging Shane's briefs down by the band and Shane is spreading his legs, a sturdier stance to keep him standing when Ilya really gets going, the briefs pulled taut and tucked just under his balls.