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@annoyinglyobsessive
ilya definitely loves flexing things shane bought for him to the centaurs; “thank you shane bought it for me” “have you seen these shane bought them for me” “yeah shane thought i would like this so he bought it for me” - and he’s trying to be super causal (not successful at all)
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listen, the sheer fucking balls to the wall bravery shane puts out by saying “you feel it too, don’t you?” is actually insane because he phrases it like a question but it’s basically a statement. he knows ilya feels it too. this is just to give him a little grace.
i love it. that's my shane!!!!! full throttle once he’s locked in!! ilya out there in that hotel room fighting for his life while shane is like. no. you got nothing on me. this is not a competition because i won before we even started. you are my target and i am locked on. don’t even try to run away.
during their first time after tampa when shane goes to ilya's house, they're in the middle of steamy but also sweet sex. ilya mutters about how good it is, best he's ever had, how gorgeous shane is. he's staring at the way his dick looks thrusting in and out, the way shane clenches down around him each time.
"so perfect, shane. wish you could see how fucking hot you look bent over and taking me like this."
and shane is so fuckdrunk at this point, so turned on by ilya's sweetness, the little kisses he's been pressing into his back, the way he keeps saying his first name like a prayer.
"film me. wanna see it, w-wanna see you inside me"
ilya stills and grips his hips. "shane...." he starts, but shane is already reaching for ilya's phone on the bedside table. he manages to grab it, and with a coy little smile over his shoulder, he tosses it on the bed near ilya's leg.
"film me, ilya. it'd be so fucking hot to see your dick inside me like that, fuck. and.... want you to have something for when i'm not here."
ilya almost comes then and there. "fuck, shane. jesus, baby... you are sure?"
shane whines and grinds his ass against him. "start recording, asshole; i wanna come!"
ilya laughs as he picks up the phone, opening up his camera and swiping to video mode. he leans down and kisses shane between his shoulder blades.
"ya tebya lyublyu, shanya." he whispers as he pushes the start button.
DEEEEEEEEEEEEE??????????????
I need a moment. I need a—I need—gimme a moment okay please. HOLY FUCK!!!!!!!!!! ok thanks. because WHAT THE FUCK! ok sorry. oh my god!!!!!!!!!!
Thinking about the fact that Ilya and Shane probably kissed SO much that first day at the cottage like Shane’s jaw was achy and their mouths were puffy and swollen and deep pink at the end of the day
Every time Ilya sees this emoji 🥺 he can’t not think of a certain freckle faced Canadian. So much so, that he gets a half chub almost immediately. From a fucking emoji. He officially bans anyone from sending it to him. He has Hollander on his mind enough already.
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hollanov is batshit crazy about each other and the centaurs are mildly concerned about it but they seem well-adjusted regardless and it helps them win games so whatever. they do have a bit of an existential crisis about it though. like are they supposed to be that obsessed with their partner too? to which their partner say if they were that clingy the partner would be very scared.
puppy boy shane hollander keeps me up at night coz imagine him saying “fuck off” while his tail is wagging so fast it could take someone out
the first thing that pulls shane out of sleep is a voice.
soft and strained. desperate enough that it cuts through the haze of exhaustion.
“pozhaluysta…”
shane doesn’t open his eyes right away. for a second he lies there, caught between sleep and wakefulness, trying to figure out what he’s hearing. beside him, ilya shifts restlessly beneath the blankets.
“net… net, prosnis’…”
shane’s eyes open.
the room is dark except for the pale glow filtering through the curtains. ilya is twisted in the sheets beside him, breathing unevenly, his face pinched with distress. another string of words spills from his mouth, fast and panicked russian that shane can’t follow.
“tebe nuzhno prosnut'sya…”
something cold settles in shane’s chest.
he pushes himself up onto one elbow, immediately turning toward him.
“ilya?”
there’s no response. only another desperate whisper.
“mama.”
ilya’s hands tighten around the blankets as though he’s trying to hold onto something. another broken sound escapes him. “mama… prosnis’...” his voice cracks on the last word, and shane doesn’t hesitate any longer.
he reaches for him immediately, resting a hand against his cheek. “ilya,” he says softly, then more firmly when there is no response. “hey, baby. wake up.”
it takes several attempts before ilya’s eyes fly open, wide and unfocused, darting around the room as though he’s still expecting to see something terrible. for a few awful seconds he doesn’t seem to recognize where he is. then his gaze lands on shane.
before shane can say anything else, ilya makes a small, wounded sound and folds into him.
shane pulls him close at once, wrapping both arms around him and pressing him against his chest. ilya clings to him, fist tightening in the back of his shirt as though he’s afraid he’ll vanish if he lets go. his entire body is shaking.
“you’re okay,” shane murmurs, rubbing a hand slowly up and down his back. “you’re home. i’ve got you.”
for a moment the only response is the sound of uneven breathing. then shane feels tears soaking into his shirt.
“sorry,” ilya whispers.
“don’t apologize.”
“i woke you up,” ilya says, his voice cracking around the words. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to.”
“i don’t care if you woke me up.” shane’s hand continues moving in slow circles across his back. “i’d rather wake up a hundred times than have you go through that alone.”
they sit together in silence for several moments. shane doesn’t rush him. eventually, when ilya finally speaks again, his voice is barely audible.
“she was there.”
shane feels his chest ache.
“yeah?”
“i found her again.” ilya swallows hard. “i kept telling her to wake up..” his voice trails off. “i couldn’t help her. i couldn’t—”
“hey.”
“she wouldn’t wake up shane.”
his voice cracks and suddenly the tears start all over.
“hey. look at me.”
reluctantly, ilya lifts his head. his eyes are red-rimmed and exhausted, carrying the same grief they’ve carried for years.
“it wasn’t your fault.”
ilya looks away almost immediately.
“it wasn’t your fault,” shane repeats, gentler this time. “none of it was your fault.”
he doesn’t argue, but shane can tell he doesn’t believe it either. still, some of the tension leaves his shoulders, and after a moment he settles back against him. that’s enough for now.
shane keeps holding him, one hand threaded through his hair while the other rests firmly against his back. every so often ilya murmurs another apology, quieter than the last, and every time shane dismisses it without hesitation. little by little the shaking stops. his breathing evens out.
eventually ilya’s voice grows sleepy.
“don’t let go.”
the request is so small that it nearly breaks shane’s heart.
he tightens his arms around him immediately. “i’m not going anywhere.”
long after ilya falls asleep, shane stays awake, making sure his sleep remains undisturbed.
eventually, listening to ilya’s steady breathing, sleep finds him too.
the first thing that pulls shane out of sleep is a voice.
soft and strained. desperate enough that it cuts through the haze of exhaustion.
“pozhaluysta…”
shane doesn’t open his eyes right away. for a second he lies there, caught between sleep and wakefulness, trying to figure out what he’s hearing. beside him, ilya shifts restlessly beneath the blankets.
“net… net, prosnis’…”
shane’s eyes open.
the room is dark except for the pale glow filtering through the curtains. ilya is twisted in the sheets beside him, breathing unevenly, his face pinched with distress. another string of words spills from his mouth, fast and panicked russian that shane can’t follow.
“tebe nuzhno prosnut'sya…”
something cold settles in shane’s chest.
he pushes himself up onto one elbow, immediately turning toward him.
“ilya?”
there’s no response. only another desperate whisper.
“mama.”
ilya’s hands tighten around the blankets as though he’s trying to hold onto something. another broken sound escapes him. “mama… prosnis’...” his voice cracks on the last word, and shane doesn’t hesitate any longer.
he reaches for him immediately, resting a hand against his cheek. “ilya,” he says softly, then more firmly when there is no response. “hey, baby. wake up.”
it takes several attempts before ilya’s eyes fly open, wide and unfocused, darting around the room as though he’s still expecting to see something terrible. for a few awful seconds he doesn’t seem to recognize where he is. then his gaze lands on shane.
before shane can say anything else, ilya makes a small, wounded sound and folds into him.
shane pulls him close at once, wrapping both arms around him and pressing him against his chest. ilya clings to him, fist tightening in the back of his shirt as though he’s afraid he’ll vanish if he lets go. his entire body is shaking.
“you’re okay,” shane murmurs, rubbing a hand slowly up and down his back. “you’re home. i’ve got you.”
for a moment the only response is the sound of uneven breathing. then shane feels tears soaking into his shirt.
“sorry,” ilya whispers.
“don’t apologize.”
“i woke you up,” ilya says, his voice cracking around the words. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to.”
“i don’t care if you woke me up.” shane’s hand continues moving in slow circles across his back. “i’d rather wake up a hundred times than have you go through that alone.”
they sit together in silence for several moments. shane doesn’t rush him. eventually, when ilya finally speaks again, his voice is barely audible.
“she was there.”
shane feels his chest ache.
“yeah?”
“i found her again.” ilya swallows hard. “i kept telling her to wake up..” his voice trails off. “i couldn’t help her. i couldn’t—”
“hey.”
“she wouldn’t wake up shane.”
his voice cracks and suddenly the tears start all over.
“hey. look at me.”
reluctantly, ilya lifts his head. his eyes are red-rimmed and exhausted, carrying the same grief they’ve carried for years.
“it wasn’t your fault.”
ilya looks away almost immediately.
“it wasn’t your fault,” shane repeats, gentler this time. “none of it was your fault.”
he doesn’t argue, but shane can tell he doesn’t believe it either. still, some of the tension leaves his shoulders, and after a moment he settles back against him. that’s enough for now.
shane keeps holding him, one hand threaded through his hair while the other rests firmly against his back. every so often ilya murmurs another apology, quieter than the last, and every time shane dismisses it without hesitation. little by little the shaking stops. his breathing evens out.
eventually ilya’s voice grows sleepy.
“don’t let go.”
the request is so small that it nearly breaks shane’s heart.
he tightens his arms around him immediately. “i’m not going anywhere.”
long after ilya falls asleep, shane stays awake, making sure his sleep remains undisturbed.
eventually, listening to ilya’s steady breathing, sleep finds him too.
Before their coming-out was forced on them (via Hayden Pike's awful video, of all things!), Ilya had never been able to attend one of Shane's commercial shootings. So, when his husband booked another gig for a ginger ale brand (how fitting, huh), Ilya immediately told Shane that he wanted to accompany him to the shooting.
Of course, the beverage brand's marketing people had realized that Ilya Rozanov's husband was the hottest man to ever walk the earth, so they wanted to make their commercial a little thirst trapp-y. Shane was always a thirst trap in Ilya's opinion, but yeah, he got it. Of course he got it. He worshipped the ground his husband was walking on.
Some assistant was standing in front of Shane and sprayed water on his face to make him look sweaty. The plan was for Shane to pull his black shirt over his head, revealing his naked upper body. Then, he was told to wipe his face with the shirt and take a sip of the ginger ale before winking directly into the camera. He didn't even have to say a single word - Shane Hollander's charisma and gorgeous looks were all that was needed.
Ilya was already half-hard when Shane licked his lips because of the water that was sprayed onto his ridiculously handsome face. Sometimes he still couldn't believe that this man was his husband. That they were married. He got to love and kiss and touch and wake up next to Shane every single day. Ilya Rozanov was the luckiest motherfucker EVER.
Leaning on a wall close to the set Shane was just being filmed on, Ilya grabbed his phone out of his jacket pocket. He opened the chat with his husband. "You look so fucking delectable, moya lyubov," he sent to Shane, a cheeky, lop-sided grin on his lips. Delectable was one of his favorite words to describe his husband. "I wish I could just come over, drop to my knees and worship the fuck out of you."
After sending those messages, he kept on holding his phone in his hand. Shane had just finished the first take and the team wanted to adjust something with the lighting, so his eyes were finding Ilya almost instantly. Ilya was still grinning and Shane looked at him for a few seconds before understanding dawned in his dark eyes. Since the team was still busy, Shane grabbed his own phone out of the pocket of his pants and took a look at it.
Ilya's grin grew wider when he saw his husband turn scarlet oh so beautifully. He watched Shane type away on his phone frantically and a few seconds later, a message arrived on his end. "You better be ready to worship me properly later, then." With his cock throbbing in his pants and his heart in his throat, Ilya looked at Shane again, eyes full of fire. There was a dirty little grin on his husband's lips when Shane put his phone back into his pocket. Oh, Ilya was so fucking ready.
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thinking about shane’s echolalia again: part 1
they’re on facetime and ilya is talking fast, short emphatic sentences basically baiting him, begging him to slip-up. so shane stays quiet, falling into the routine of “mhm”s and “i don’t know”s because his boyfriend needs to talk and shane wants him to talk but he has not had the mental capacity to think of a unique sentence in the past ten minutes. after a little while ilya slows, and starts to frown and then he stops and just stares.
“shane.”
“mhm?” god hollander. another mhm, really? he’s even starting to annoy himself. but what else can he do?
“just tell me what it is.”
“i.. don’t know what you mean?”
“something is bothering you.”
“nothing’s bothering me.” shane does his very best to actually look at ilya and not the tiny version of himself in the corner of the screen, “i told you today was boring.”
Shane Hollander: Yeah, when I was a kid, the other parents could get a little intense. But at worse it was just some meaningless death threats. It’s really no big deal.
Ilya Rozanov: Of course, Hollander, totally. I mean why would a death threat be a big deal? Oh that’s right.
Ilya Rozanov: Because it THREATENS DEATH.
like maybe this is a natural extension of the play fighting/wrestling that i believe we all agree hollanov is getting up to but its very important to me that they are also constantly smacking each other around (i get crazy crazy about the belly slap after first time BJ in episode 1)
this manifests in many different ways i think. most obvi to me is they (moreso ilya in my mind) are smacking each other on the ass like constantly, both in a “give me a fucking piece of this” way (MORE OF THIS IN S2 JACOB TIERNEY…..LET CONNOR GET A HANDFUL OF THAT) and in a more locker-room-like “great fucking job weeding the flowerbeds” kind of way
and also i think when they piss each other off the gloves come off. like when ilya is trying to rile shane up and shane will just reach over and whack him on the back of his head. i think they get into scrabbly little cat fights just pawing and batting at each other playfully to shut the other one up
and then i am ALSO of the opinion that they both like to be slapped during sex. probably not until after they become official but i can imagine fucking rage baiter supreme ilya rozanov saying some shit to really get under shane’s skin while he’s riding him, and like a reflex shane goes to smack him to get him to knock it off. but then ilya is all 😵💫😵💫😵💫 and it makes his dick twitch cuz its fucking hot (#shanehollanderwalksilyarozanovlikeadog #subilyaagenda)
Ilya should’ve just been like “i wanna stuff you full of my cum” to get Shane to be exclusive with him
Shane probably would’ve been like “okay😍😍😍sounds amazing😍😍i’m clean right now actually😍😍if you are too we could just do that now 😍😍😍”
One of the great tragedies of Shane's life is that he dreams of being a cumdump but Ilya maxes out at 3. Hollander I can't there is no more is only dust and cobwebs
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im so invested in the idea of shane and ilya keeping a secret stash of polaroids throughout the progression of their relationship it actually makes me want to use my ao3 account for something else than sitting in the cuck chair for once
Loads of Hollanov fics have them getting walked in on while making out etc which is great
But I’d love a fic where one or both of Shane’s parents drop by the cottage for phone charger/laundry pod reasons and find Shane snuggled on the couch fast asleep on Ilya’s chest and that’s how they find out
They’re dressed in soft casual clothes, sleeping like the dead and wrapped around each other like vines and Ilya’s hand is in Shane’s hair and Shane looks so so comfortable and relaxed
Meanwhile his parents are staring slack-jawed at the sight of their son using his archenemy the Russian Rage Machine as a teddybear/pillow
