#( ilysm

Truest true

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JASON GRACE!!! 💙💫⚡️🌬🌩🫶

Happy birthday to the best boy my babygirl my blonde superman ilysm

Dom!Ilya Rozanov x Dom!Shane Hollander x Sub!Fem reader

Summary: After the last time yall couldn’t stop thinking about each other, and when you see each others again no one can hold back the lust anymore.

Warnings: MMF, dirty talk, rough sex, p in v/a, oral, after care and sweet talking trough it.

word count: 3k,write me for requests (Minors don’t read this).

The dim glow of the Boston skyline filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse suite at the Mandarin Oriental, casting long shadows across the king-sized bed. It was a crisp autumn night in 2016, the kind where the city's energy hummed outside but inside, the air crackled with anticipation. You, Y/N, had arrived first, your pulse already quickening from the text exchange earlier that day: Meet us at the hotel. Room 2501. Bring nothing but yourself. The words from Ilya Rozanov, the Bruins' enigmatic Russian forward with his intense stare and unyielding build, had lingered in your mind all afternoon. And Shane Hollander, the team's rugged defenseman, his message following: We're gonna make you forget your own name tonight.

You'd been drawn into their orbit months ago—Ilya's secret glances during games turning into stolen nights, Shane's flirtatious banter evolving into something raw and shared. What began as separate flames had merged into this inferno, a threesome dynamic that pushed boundaries and ignited every hidden desire. Tonight, after a grueling practice, they wanted to unwind, and you were the center of their focus.

The door clicked open, and there they were: Ilya in a fitted black shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, jeans low on his hips, his dark hair tousled. Shane followed, his blond waves damp from a shower, wearing a simple white tee and cargo pants that did little to hide the power in his legs. Their eyes locked on you immediately—you in a silk slip dress that skimmed your thighs, the fabric whispering against your skin as you stood by the window.

Ilya crossed the room first, his hand cupping your jaw as he tilted your face up. 'You've been thinking about this all day,' he said, voice low and accented, thumb brushing your lower lip. It wasn't a question. Shane flanked your other side, his breath warm on your neck. 'We could tell from your texts. Wet already, aren't you?'

You nodded, heat flooding your cheeks, but they didn't rush. Ilya's mouth descended, capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss—lips firm, tongue teasing the seam until you parted for him. He tasted like mint and determination, deepening the kiss with a groan that vibrated through you. Shane watched for a moment, then pressed against your back, his hands sliding up your arms to your shoulders, massaging lightly before trailing down to your waist. 'Kiss him like you mean it,' Shane murmured, nipping at your earlobe. 'Show us how much you want this.'

You did, pouring hunger into the kiss, your hands fisting Ilya's shirt as your tongues tangled. Shane's fingers danced along the hem of your dress, inching it up slowly, exposing the lace of your panties. He didn't touch further yet—just ghosted his knuckles over your thighs, building the ache. Ilya's free hand joined, cupping your breast through the silk, thumb circling your nipple until it hardened into a peak. You arched into him, breaking the kiss to gasp. 'More,' you whispered.

'Tell us what you want,' Ilya demanded, his blue eyes boring into yours, hand squeezing your breast harder. Shane chuckled softly from behind, his erection pressing insistently against your ass. 'Yeah, spell it out. We want to hear how bad you need our hands on you, our mouths.'

'I want you to touch me everywhere,' you breathed, voice trembling with need. 'Strip me slow, make me beg.'

They exchanged a glance over your shoulder, a silent agreement passing between them. Shane's hands hooked under the straps of your dress, sliding them down your arms inch by inch, the fabric pooling at your waist. Ilya's mouth followed the path, kissing along your collarbone, then lower to the swell of your breasts. He tugged the dress further, exposing you fully to the cool air, your nipples tightening further. Shane spun you gently to face him, his lips claiming yours now—hotter, more urgent than Ilya's, teeth grazing your lip as he backed you toward the bed.

Ilya pressed in from behind again, his chest to your back, hands roaming your bare sides while Shane's kiss devoured you. 'Feel that?' Ilya growled against your ear, grinding his hardening cock against you. 'That's what you do to us. Hard as fuck just from looking.' Shane's hands cupped your ass, kneading the flesh before slipping between your thighs from the front, fingers tracing the edge of your panties without dipping in. 'These are soaked,' he said, voice rough. 'You been dripping for us?'

'Yes,' you admitted, hips bucking toward his touch. But he pulled back, smirking. 'Not yet. We take our time.' They guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, Ilya kneeling before you to slip the dress off completely, leaving you in just your panties. Shane stood, stripping his shirt slowly, revealing the defined lines of his abs and the trail of hair leading down. Ilya followed suit, his body a masterpiece of lean muscle from years on the ice, scars from games adding to the rugged appeal.

Ilya's hands parted your knees, but instead of diving in, he kissed the inside of your thigh, teeth scraping lightly. 'Spread wider,' he ordered, and you did, exposing the damp spot on your panties. Shane knelt beside him, their shoulders brushing—a casual intimacy that sent a thrill through you. 'Look at her,' Shane said to Ilya, voice laced with hunger. 'Pussy's begging through the fabric.' Ilya's response was a low hum, his breath fanning over you as he leaned in, lips brushing the lace without pressure.

You whimpered, hands reaching for them, but Shane caught your wrists, pinning them to your sides. 'Watch us first. See how we worship this body.' He leaned in from the side, tongue flicking out to trace your inner thigh, mirroring Ilya's path on the other leg. They worked in tandem, kisses and licks inching upward, avoiding your core entirely. Ilya's fingers hooked into your panties, tugging them down agonizingly slow, the cool air hitting your bare pussy. 'Fuck, she's glistening,' Ilya rasped, eyes fixed on you.

Shane took the panties the rest of the way off, tossing them aside. Now fully exposed, you felt their gazes like caresses. Ilya parted your folds with two fingers, not entering, just spreading you open. 'So pink and wet. Dripping down your thighs.' Shane's mouth hovered close, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe along your outer lips, tasting the slickness there. You moaned, hips lifting, but Ilya held you down with a firm hand on your hip. 'Stay still. Let us taste every inch.'

They took turns then—Shane's tongue delving shallowly into your entrance, lapping up your arousal with broad strokes, while Ilya sucked gently on your clit, the suction pulling a cry from your throat. 'Tastes like sin,' Shane muttered against you, his stubble scraping deliciously. Ilya pulled back to watch, stroking himself through his jeans. 'Suck her harder. Make her grind on your face.' Shane obeyed, mouth sealing over your clit, tongue flicking rapidly as he hummed vibrations into you.

Your hands fisted the sheets, body trembling as pleasure built layer by layer. Ilya stood, shedding his jeans, his thick cock springing free—veined and heavy. He stroked it lazily while watching Shane work you. 'Look at him eating your pussy like it's his last meal,' Ilya said, voice thick. 'You like that? His tongue fucking into you?' 'Yes—god, yes,' you panted, thighs quivering. Shane added a finger, sliding it in knuckle-deep, curling to brush your inner walls. 'Tight as hell. Gonna feel so good around my cock later.'

But they switched again, drawing out the torment. Ilya took over, two fingers plunging into your pussy now, scissoring to stretch you while his thumb circled your clit. Shane rose to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. 'Suck my fingers,' he commanded, pressing two into your mouth. You did, swirling your tongue around them as Ilya's fingers pumped faster, the wet sounds filling the room. 'That's it—get them wet for your pussy,' Shane growled.

He replaced Ilya's hand with his own slick fingers, three now, thrusting deep and twisting. Ilya knelt again, his mouth joining—tongue lapping at where Shane's fingers stretched you. 'Fuck her with those fingers. Make her soak the bed.' The fullness, the dual sensation of fingers and tongue, had you on the edge. 'I'm close—please,' you begged. 'Not yet,' Ilya said, pulling back. Shane withdrew his fingers with a wet pop, leaving you clenching around nothing.

They stripped fully now, cocks hard and leaking pre-cum. Shane's was long, curved slightly, Ilya's thicker with a pronounced head. They pulled you to your feet, maneuvering you between them. Ilya's cock pressed against your ass, Shane's against your belly as they kissed you alternately—hot, messy exchanges that left you dizzy. 'Feel us?' Shane whispered, grinding forward. 'Both throbbing for you. Gonna fill you up soon.' Ilya's hands roamed your back, dipping to squeeze your ass cheeks, spreading them slightly. 'But first, more teasing.'

They laid you on the bed, Ilya climbing over you to suck on your breasts—teeth grazing nipples, tongue soothing the sting. Shane settled between your legs, but instead of entering, he rubbed his cock along your slit, the head nudging your clit with each pass. 'Slide it over her clit,' Ilya instructed from above, his own hand pinching your other nipple. 'Make her hump it.' You did, hips rolling desperately, the friction building heat without penetration. 'Fuck, your cock feels so good like that—rubbing my pussy,' you moaned.

Shane groaned, pre-cum mixing with your wetness. 'Pussy's clenching like it wants to suck me in.' Ilya shifted, his mouth trailing down your body to join Shane at your core. While Shane frotted against you, Ilya licked your clit, then lower to where Shane's cock slid. His tongue flicked over both of you, tasting the combined slickness. 'Suck my balls while you do that,' Shane said to Ilya, voice strained. Ilya did, briefly, mouth enveloping one heavy sac before returning to your clit, the male-male touch adding a forbidden edge that made your arousal spike.

The foreplay stretched on, endless in its intensity. They flipped you to your hands and knees, Shane behind you, cock teasing your entrance without pushing in. Ilya in front, feeding you his length—shallow thrusts into your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks. 'Suck harder—take more,' Ilya grunted, fingers in your hair. Shane's hands spread your ass, thumb circling your tight hole while his cockhead dipped just inside your pussy, then out. 'Gonna fuck this pussy raw later. Stretch it with my dick until you can't walk.'

You moaned around Ilya's cock, the vibrations making him thrust deeper. Shane finally sank in an inch, then pulled out, repeating the tease. 'Tell us how empty you feel,' he demanded. 'So empty—need you deep,' you gasped when Ilya let you up for air. They laughed lowly, the sound dark and promising. Ilya pulled you up for a kiss, tasting himself on your lips, while Shane's fingers replaced his cock—four now, pumping furiously, thumb pressing your clit.

Orgasm crashed over you then, unavoidable, your pussy gushing around Shane's hand as you cried out into Ilya's mouth. They didn't stop, riding it out until you sagged. 'First one down,' Shane said, licking his fingers clean. 'Now we really start.'

Ilya lay back, pulling you onto him reverse, your back to his chest. His cock nudged your entrance, and you sank down slowly, inch by thick inch filling your still-pulsing walls. 'Fuck, so tight after that,' he groaned, hands on your hips. Shane watched, stroking himself. 'Ride him. Show me how you fuck that cock.' You did, rolling your hips, the drag exquisite. Ilya thrust up, meeting you, his hands reaching around to spread your pussy lips, exposing your clit.

Shane knelt on the bed, leaning in to suck your clit while you bounced. 'Tongue on her while she rides,' Ilya said, voice rough. Shane's mouth worked magic, sucking and licking as Ilya's cock pistoned into you. 'Feel that? My dick deep, his tongue on your clit—gonna make you come again.' The words, the sensations, built fast. You ground down harder, Ilya's hands bruising your hips. 'Come on my cock—milk it.' You shattered, walls fluttering around him, juices coating his length.

They switched, Shane taking your pussy now, laying you on your side with Ilya spooning behind. Shane entered slow, his curve hitting new spots. 'Fuck, different angle—hits so deep,' you moaned. Ilya pressed against your back, cock sliding between your ass cheeks, not entering but thrusting along the crease. 'Feel us both rubbing you?' he whispered. Shane fucked steady, hand between your legs to rub your clit. Ilya's fingers joined from behind, pinching your nipples.

'Pound her harder,' Ilya urged. Shane did, hips snapping, the slap of skin loud. 'Your pussy's gripping me like a vice—sucking my cock in.' You came again, screaming, body shaking between them. But they held off, pulling out to reposition.

On your knees now, you alternated sucking them—deep throating Shane while stroking Ilya, then switching. 'Take it all—gag on my dick,' Shane grunted, thrusting into your mouth. Ilya fingered your pussy from behind, four fingers stretching you wide. 'So wet and open now. Ready for both?'

The finale built: Ilya beneath you again, cock in your pussy. Shane behind, lubed and pressing into your ass slowly. 'Relax—take my cock in your ass while he's in your pussy.' The stretch burned then bloomed into pleasure, both filling you completely. They thrust in rhythm, cocks dragging against each other through the thin wall. 'Fuck, feel that? Both our dicks owning you,' Shane growled. Ilya's hands guided your hips. 'Bounce—fuck us both.'

Dirty talk poured out: 'Your holes are made for our cocks—tight and greedy.' 'Come with us inside you—squeeze every drop.' The overload hit, your third orgasm ripping through as they followed, hot cum flooding your pussy and ass, spilling out as they kept thrusting through it.

Collapsed in a tangle of limbs, breaths ragged, the room smelled of sex and satisfaction. Shane was the first to move, easing out of you with a gentle kiss to your shoulder. 'You okay?' he asked softly, his voice stripped of the earlier roughness, now laced with concern. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch feather-light as he scanned your expression. Ilya shifted beneath you, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you steady as he slipped free, a low hum of contentment rumbling in his chest. 'Breathe,' he murmured against your neck, his lips pressing soft, reassuring pecks along your skin.

They didn't let you crash alone. Shane slid off the bed, grabbing a warm washcloth from the en-suite bathroom—he'd anticipated this, the steam from the recent shower still lingering in the air. Returning, he knelt beside you, parting your legs carefully. 'Let me clean you up,' he said, his tone gentle, eyes meeting yours for permission. You nodded, and he wiped away the evidence of their release with slow, tender strokes, avoiding any pressure on your sensitive spots. The warmth soothed the ache, and he murmured praises the whole time: 'You took us so well. Look at you—still glowing.'

Ilya helped maneuver you into a more comfortable position, pulling you against his chest as Shane worked. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, dipping occasionally to massage the tension from your muscles. 'Rest here,' he whispered, his accent thicker in the quiet aftermath. Once Shane finished, he joined them on the bed, fetching bottled water from the minibar and a soft robe for you. He draped the robe over your shoulders, tying it loosely before handing you the water. 'Drink slow. You've earned it.'

They sandwiched you between them again, but this time it was all comfort—no urgency, just shared warmth. Shane's hand rested on your thigh, thumb circling soothingly, while Ilya combed through your tangled hair with his fingers, untangling knots without pulling. 'Tell us if anything hurts,' Shane said, pressing a kiss to your temple. 'We pushed hard tonight.' You shook your head, sipping the water, feeling the care wrap around you like a blanket. Ilya nodded in agreement, his free hand finding yours, interlacing fingers. 'Next time, we go slower if you want. Or harder. Whatever makes you feel good.'

Conversation drifted to lighter things—their practice earlier, a funny story from the locker room that had them both chuckling softly, careful not to overwhelm you. Shane fetched snacks from room service remnants—fruit and chocolate—feeding you bites with a playful grin. 'Replenish those energies,' he teased gently. Ilya hummed a quiet tune, something from his homeland, the vibration lulling you as exhaustion settled in. They took turns massaging your legs, working out the cramps from the positions, their touches firm yet loving.