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#myilya has a reputation for being openly a giant gossip about other players. and like, not that that’s not canon, but there’s some faction of girls who are lesbians into hockey who call it for what dude bros never would - rozanov isn’t chirping just on the ice, he’s openly mean girling with other players off the ice too. roz “wendy williams” rozanov becomes a trending thing a few times over the course of his career, with brainrot memes about “wendy williams was pregnant with roz here” to match.
a video by a fan of him and cliff marleau talking INSANE shit on the bench resurfaces after The Outing, and the internet starts up on its usual bullshit of how ilya is too fun for shane again. the usual “oh it’s so sad that roz doesn’t have someone to match his energy” and “hollander is so boring what does a guy who talks like this even see in that”.
anyway, svetlana (who cares less about shane’s hockey image and letting him remain untarnished than ilya does—she’s smart and also a minority so she feels less guilt about pushing shane on it) catches wind of this. one day, out of actually fucking nowhere it’s just some wednesday, she posts a video from the cottage. shes been invited to stay the week to babysit shane who is out on IR, and they’re watching a centaurs vs. guardians game.
the camera is shaky, and held low, and at first you can only hear shane in the background, but then he becomes visible at an odd angle. he’s got his injured ankle up on the couch, he’s wearing a really low cut tank top and a slutty pair of shorts. he is also mid rant about “— and if your entire team is still falling apart to this level TWO YEARS LATER just because you lost one good player and another caught a case, then you have to ask yourself what’s f****** wrong with the f****** coaches. i mean, mathewson is an ugly son of a b**** but i didn’t realize he was f****** stupid too. and we’re not even playing well, smith is just that much of a f****** sieve. maybe if he put half as much weight into moving towards the puck as he puts into pushing his wife around — you’d like her by the way-“
the video goes viral instantaneously. people cannot believe that captain hollander is this mean, but devoted hockey fans also keep quoting it, shocked because he’s RIGHT. some girl who’s been a roz fan since boston tweets, “roz will chirp to piss you off, but hollzy will kill your family because he finds you disrespectful to the sport.”
the only response anyone can get out of the rozanov-hollanders is ilya retweeting that post.
something something shane doing push ups and ilya laying underneath him NOT letting shane kiss him on each drop down and shane’s just heavy breathing a hair away from his lips every time he holds it for three seconds and his eyes are hooded and keep flickering from ilya’s eyes to his lips and he keeps pumping up and down up and down up and down and his sweat starts to slide down his face and ilya restrains from licking it up and oh would you know it shane drops down and his hard cock presses against ilya’s already hard cock and he holds his position just a tiny bit above ilya with their clothed dicks heavy against each other and shane starts shaking with the effort to hold himself and then ilya’s legs slowly find themselves opening for shane to slowly slowly drop into the space made just for him and his hands on either side of Ilya’s head are red from the pressure and then he’s diving mouth open down on Ilya and ilya reciprocates it just as filthily licking at the sweat on his lips and into his warm mouth and something something you see the vision yes ?
it's ilya's first morning waking up at the cottage. he's all drenched in soft golden light and warm along his left side, the press of shane's skin against his in the delicate, hazy morning sunshine is a heady thing. shane's body is lax, all his tissues like butter, soft and maleable, his skin dimpling where ilya presses his fingers into muscle. he's never had shane beside him quite like this. in boston he'd come close. waking up with shane trapped in the cage of his embrace but that had been a short nap, and shane hadn't been warm like this, he hadn't smelt like this. all sleepy and a little sweaty and a little like the smoke from the fire last night and a little like his eucalyptus shampoo. and it's the best he's ever slept. pressed along the soft line of shane's sleeping body, his bicep pinned beneath shane's head, and even when he wakes up and his arm is numb and a little sore at the elbow where it's been bent all night it's the best he's ever slept. it's also the best wake up ever.
shane is looking up at him when he blinks his eyes open. he gets an eyeful of puffy-faced, sleep rumpled shane. all big brown eyes and freckles and mussed hair and swollen pink lips -- from kissing, from all the kissing they did yesterday, their mouths drawn together over and over and over throughout the day like they just couldn't stop. ilya wakes up to shane murmuring 'good morning' all gravelly and low, soft and sweet. his voice like honey. and ilya says 'good morning' back and his accent is a little thicker than normal but he doesn't feel self-conscious. shane smiles at him and ilya melts. shane gets these lines just beneath his eyes, dimpling into the skin of his cheeks when he smiles like that, and his mouth stretches puffy and red and lovely and ilya is helpless but to confess 'i like you' and shane's eyes are so so so tender when he says 'i like you too'. ilya stares at him, moves his hand to card his fingers through the mess of shane's hair and he wants to kiss him so bad but shane is moving, nuzzling into his touch, smiling as he settles back against ilya. and ilya turns his face to press his nose into shane's hairline, breathing him in, swallowing around those other words sitting in his throat.
it's quiet for a while, shane just breathing deep against him as the forrest outside wakes up, birds chirping and bugs buzzing in the rising heat of the morning. ilya wonders if shane's fallen back asleep but then shane is rolling into him, pressing his mouth to the underside of ilya's pec, smearing his mouth over the moles dotted there and he's making that sound that's something like a purr and makes ilya want to eat him. ilya turns his head down and watches shane as he nuzzles his face into ilya's pecs, as he kisses over ilya's breastbone and heart. his fingers stay in shane's hair, gently tugging on the strands as shane presses tight tight tighter to his side until they're plastered together, shane's leg between his, half of shane's body on top of him.
and then shane is lifting his head and ilya is cupping shane's chin, pressing his thumb to the corner of shane's mouth, tugging on his pretty swollen lips. shane's face tilts into the touch and his tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, catching the tip of ilya's thumb. shane's hands are tucked around ilya's ribs, fingers making circles over sensitive flesh. and then ilya is bending awkwardly, stretching his neck to capture shane's mouth in a searing kiss. he doesn't care that the angle hurts his neck or strains his traps. he wants to kiss this beautiful sleepy version of shane that's nuzzling into him and purring like he's some big, heavy cat. and shane's mouth tastes like stale morning breath and his lips are sloppy and a little over sensitive but ilya doesn't care. the kiss is perfect. he licks into shane's mouth and drags shane closer until shane is sitting on his stomach and bending down over him, his big hands now on either side of ilya's head and holding him in place. shane's thumbs rub over his earlobes and ilya breathes a sigh of relieve -- the touch soothes the parts of him still lingering in the impossibility of this all -- and ilya grips shane's face back, thumbs pressing into the hinge of shane's strong jaw and urging him to release, to slacken, to let ilya press his tongue into the depths of shane's hot mouth. shane relents to the touch easily, of course, jaw slack and breathes panting in increasingly higher whines and ilya bites at his already sensitive lips and sucks on his tongue.
the makeout turns to rolling over the mattress, limbs tangling together, hands shoving briefs aside so they're entirely skin-to-skin. ilya's hands find the meat of shane's ass and his fingers dig in, kneading the flesh, pushing them closer together. shane's hands mimic the movement of ilya's and he grins as shane squeezes his ass and drags their hips tight together in a uncoordinated inelegant rhythm. rolling waves of pressure and closeness in each sliding press of their swollen cocks together. and shane is breathing a little shaky and his mouth has dropped open and his lashes are fluttering and his cheeks are pink and ilya is dropping kisses over and over and over, all across the skin in reach. a kiss to shane's jaw, his chin, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his eyelids, his brows, his lips, his lips, his lips. and he wants to swallow shane whole and he wants to look at him forever and he wants to fuck him and he wants to hold him and he wants to kiss kiss kiss him.
"please fuck me," shane's whispering, shivering when ilya presses his fingers between his cheeks and feels where shane is still relaxed and tender from yesterday. they'd fucked once, twice, three times before the end of the day. unable to help themselves. the first time a rush of pushing biting scratching shoving with shane on his knees. then with shane on top gripping at ilya's chest and riding ilya so filthy, so fast, so fierce it had made ilya's brain melt out his ears helpless but to grasp at shane's hips and grunt with each skilled roll of the man's body. then with shane on his back, legs locked around ilya's hips and their fingers tangled, pressing into the mattress above their heads as they kissed and moved lazily in the soft glow of the lamplight. and between that they'd kissed, and kissed, and kissed. kissed tangled on the couch after dinner. kissed by the firepit with ilya's hands cupping the back of shane's head. kissed in the shower pressed against the cool glass. kissed after they'd brushed their teeth, breaths minty, shane sitting on the counter and wrapping his legs around ilya's hips, keeping them close together.
and then shane's pleading, again, "please, ilya, fuck me." and ilya is humming, nodding, pressing shane down into the mattress and pushing his knees back to open him up. he's staring for a moment, thumb brushing over where shane is sensitive and clenching around nothing, begging to be filled, and then he's moaning and dragging his tongue over the hot flesh, kissing and sucking and prodding into shane's body with his slick tongue. and he stays there between shane's legs until his chin is slick with saliva and shane is writhing and tugging at his hair. when he pulls back shane is all blushing neck and flushed chest and sweat slick forehead and wide blown pupils and he's so so so fucking pretty. he's so fucking pretty and he likes ilya. he's so fucking pretty and he wants ilya to fuck him. he's so fucking pretty and he wants to relax with ilya, for once. and ilya is crawling back up his body and kissing him again and shane is moaning and biting at his mouth and arching up to rub his cock into ilya's hip and he's cupping ilya's balls with one hand and shoving the other in ilya's curls and gripping tight and saying "i like you so much" and ilya is grinding his body into shane's touch and then he's gasping and fuck did he just...?
shane's hips still and ilya squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a long, self-admonishing groan, head dropping down to the crook of shane's neck, hiding himself there in the warmth of shane's skin. and shane is giggling and ilya is pinching his side and shane is just giggling harder.
"did you just...?" shane asks and ilya is growling "shut up" as shane is tugging on his hair trying to get him to look at him. when he pulls back -- finally -- he expects to see maybe disappointment but shane is grinning wild and wide. his eyes are all crinkled and his freckles are bunched up around his nose and his mouth is stretched in a smile ilya has never seen before and he puffs a breath as he looks at this pretty, beautiful, perfect man. who likes him. so much. of course he just...
"sorry," he mumbles and shane shakes his head and nuzzles their mouths together, dragging lazy kisses over ilya's slack lips. "no," he's saying "that was hot" and ilya is making an indignant sound. it was definitely not hot that he just came from shane barely touching him and talking to him all sweetly in his deep morning voice. "you really like me," shane teases and ilya groans "you like me so much you came before i even did anything" and ilya is muttering "shut the fuck up" and shane is laughing again but it turns to moaning gasping whimpering when ilya wraps a calloused palm around shane's dribbling cock, thumb pressing meanly into the sensitive head.
and then he's bullying shane onto his stomach and yanking his hips up and spreading his cheeks with his hands and pushing his tongue back into shane's hole. eating him out ferociously, rough and sloppy, morning stubble dragging a little painfully over sensitve skin. and he won't touch shane's dick. he won't let shane come. he won't let shane touch himself. he's indulging in sucking and kissing and tonguing at shane's pretty wet loose hole until he is hard again and then he's fucking shane long and slow and mean. not quite giving him enough to come, driving him over the edge of over sensitve, holding him down between the shoulder blades and making him take it. ilya's come once now he can go on and on and on. and shane is whimpering, tears spilling over red cheeks, by the time ilya finally picks up the pace, adjusts his angle, and gives shane what he wants. fucking into shane hard and brutal and precise. cock dragging over that perfect spot on every press in and on every drag back out. still he doesn't let shane touch himself and shane is hiccuping, gripping at the sheets and clenching his teeth around pathetic little mewls by the time he is finally coming. handsfree. shaking beneath ilya's hold. ilya pulls out and tears of the condom and jerks himself off furiously until he's coming all over shane's ass, painting his skin in sticky, thick cum. shane's gasping at the sensation and his spent cock dribbles more between his legs as he whimpers, reaching back for ilya's hand, fingers clenching and unclenching begging for connection.
and ilya's slowly turns shane over and slides their fingers together, bring shane's knuckles to his mouth, kissing over the thick, boyish knobs of his knuckles. and then he's slumping over shane and kissing all over his face and murmuring "i do really like you" and shane is smiling, dopey and fuckdrunk and angling his face into each kiss like a sunflower seeking sunlight. "i really like you" he's mumbling and their noses nudge and their lips smear and that's how ilya wakes up on his first morning at shane's cottage.
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ADHD advice from non-ADHD people: start blocking out your day and put things in your google calendar
ADHD advice from ADHD people: any time you're waiting for your food to microwave YOU HAVE TO WASH DISHES WASH AS MANY AS YOU CAN THIS IS A RACE AGAINST TIME THIS IS THE ONLY TIME THIS COULD HAPPEN
So anyway, let’s talk about what happens when Shane finds out that Wiebe is bisexual.
Because during The Long Game, Ilya decides not to tell Shane because it’s not his secret to tell, and Shane has to find out eventually, right? Wiebe says something like “I’m sure Ilya has told you that I understand a little bit about your situation.” And Shane is thinking like, what, you definitely don’t, you were a mid player at your absolute best. But eventually Wiebe gets the point across and it goes, I think, one of a couple different ways:
One: Shane HATES this information and tries to memory hole it immediately. Shane has had a complicated psychosexual attachment to every hockey coach he’s ever had, which is fine because hockey coaches are straighter than God. Even though both Shane and Wiebe are in happily married monogamous relationships, finding out that it’s actually hypothetically possible for a coach to experience reciprocal attraction to him is the worst thing that’s ever happened.
Two: Finding out that Wiebe is bisexual pushes Shane over the edge into having a meta-textual breakdown. Shane: “It’s fucking ridiculous. It’s absurd! We’re already the gayest team in the league. The gay married team. And now we have a gay coach?” Ilya: “Lubimiy, he is bisexual, do not make me ask Harris to give another PowerPoint presentation on bisexual erasure.”
Three: Shane pours over stats from Detroit’s 2001 season and figures out who Wiebe’s teammate was in less than 60 minutes.
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One must imagine that every year for their ccm commercial anniversary Shane and Ilya roleplay that Ilya decided to force Shane to take it in the shower.
Omegaverse idea you say?? *Ilya voice: tell me. *sips vodka*
Right. Okay. Dynamics: omega/omega hollanov. Setting: generic fantasy/historic kingdom. The alpha monarch of the kingdom has a collection of omega concubines, but is taking his sweet time producing an heir and choosing a consort.
Ilya is the favored concubine. He has been there the longest, he is known for being smart, charming and entertaining with company, and the monarch fucks him the most. It is an open secret that he is the monarch’s preferred choice for his consort.
One day it’s announced the monarch has taken on a new concubine. Not unusual, but the fanfare that follows is. The new concubine arrives with a six carriage party of all his things and his parents openly weep saying goodbye to him. Ilya has picked up through snatches of gossip that this new omega, Shane, is the only son of a noble family with key political alliances. Ilya stands next to the monarch and greets Shane in the way he is expected to, all while thinking, “You soft, spoiled idiot, they are going to eat you alive here.”
It becomes clear within the first few months that Shane is very smart and knows a lot about politics and strategy. He is also shiny and new, so the monarch visits him constantly. But he doesn’t socialize much, and when he does come out he has trouble making friends. And soon, Ilya learns, he has another problem.
About three months after Shane’s arrival, Ilya gets summoned to the monarch’s chambers. Of course, this is not uncommon for him. What is unexpected is that when he gets there, Shane is already on the bed, half dressed in his robe and looking clearly frustrated.
“Ilya, help him loosen up,” the monarch says from the chair next to the bed. “It’s like fucking a plank of wood.”
Every concubine that arrives to the palace is a virgin, or at least has the brains to lie about it like Ilya did. But some are apparently more virginal than others.
Ilya gets on the bed, his body moving easily as he sits across from this other omega. He can’t help but feel a little smug as he takes Shane’s pretty face between his hands. This is where he has expertise and power, this is why he’s the favorite.
He starts kissing Shane, and within a few minutes, the other omega is making little gasping noises against Ilya’s mouth, his scent getting sweeter. Ilya moves Shane to lay down, kisses over him, unties his robes, angles their bodies to be visible the monarch. Ilya presses a kiss to Shane’s stomach, and Shane moans and opens his legs, his thighs already wet with slick.
Ilya feels a hand in his hair, pulling him away from Shane’s body as the monarch slots himself in Ilya’s place instead. Ilya is a little annoyed, but so smug that he did his job well as he watches the monarch fuck into Shane, head buried deep in his neck.
A few minutes into this, the monarch groans in frustration, “you’re stiff again, you useless bitch.”
Shane turns his head, locking eyes with Ilya who is still sitting on the other side of the wide bed. His big brown eyes are wet, his pretty face creased in frustration.
“Your majesty,” Ilya says before he can think. “Can I touch him?”
“If it gets him wet again, yes.”
So Ilya leans over and starts kissing Shane, grabs one of the other omega’s big hands and brings it down to where Ilya is also slick, massages and moves Shane’s fingers until they are moving on their own. Soon Shane’s body is loose and relaxed, his scent heady and sweet, and his fingers are fucking into Ilya the whole time. All three of them come within minutes of each other.
The next morning, Ilya gets two letters to his chamber. One is from the monarch informing him that he will be expected to visit that night. The other is stamped with the Hollander family crest and asks if Ilya wants to have tea sometime.
I think we don't talk enough about how Shane and Ilya are literally best friends. Like you cannot be on their level of soulmate and deeply in love without that person also being your bestest friend in the whole world. These two are making jokes and laughing at each other in the middle of sex. They have a plethora of inside jokes that they frequently terrorize the centaurs with. They say the same shit at the same time semi frequently. Absolutely no one, including people within their own circle, is safe from the way they gossip and talk shit with each other. Any time anyone even suggests that one of them finds the other annoying or might want to take space away from the other they get DEEPLY offended. Like being dudes they hear guys constantly talking about how they love their girlfriends/wives but that they like being away from them and getting to be with friends and hollanov is like "... Your not friends with your wife?" And the guys are like "no?? That's my wife???" And hollanov are like "what the genuine fuck is wrong with these people"
i'm literally the priest's favorite sacrificial lamb because i am so docile and sweet and i hold very still when they put the rope around my neck and i trot along so happily while they lead me to the altar and they do not even have to tie me down because i lie so very still and only bleat once or twice in my lovely lamb voice and when the knife comes down it cuts through me like butter and i offer no resistance and i bleed so prettily all over my new white wool and my guts all unspool like the most beautiful shining yarn and my eyes are animal and dumb and hold no accusation and every time i die i come right back as another little lamb because the priest loves me so so much and he always chooses me for the sacrifice every time and he always places one hand on my small and twitching nose to calm me while he lifts the knife and he doesn't do it for the other lambs only me because i'm his favorite
hollanov getting cuteness aggression for each other so bad that they fuck the most violently they’ve ever fucked and actually Draw Blood with their teeth and Ilya has to update his tetanus shot all because Shane couldn’t physically climb into his ribcage
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okay but with how much of ilya's personality is getting satisfaction about taking care of his loved ones and how much he loves taking care of shane in particular, i'm CACKLING about shane nearly killing him the first time he tries out praise on him in bed
*shane* loves being praised and told how good he is, so he decides to flip it around and try it on ilya because that always goes so well with stuff like techniques in bed
but ilya gets hit with "fuck, you're so good to me" and 0.0 and before he can even START to recover from that, shane (who is still in the zone, eyes closed, just fully Lost In It) doubles back with a "god, you take such good care of me"
and ilya fully almost blacks out
shane startles back to reality to ilya pulling away and having to sit on the edge of the bed and put his head between his knees and shane is just *tentative pat pat* what...just happened????
see the thing is shane WOULD have mysterious powers and never know it because they just don't coincide with his hockey career. like i easily see him as being able to control the weather or something and he just doesnt gaf. the games are all indoors anyway so he doesnt care or know why it always happens to storm like crazy after the metros lose no matter where they are or what season it is. thats got nothing to do with him!
This is a blag. @capncarol - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
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