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Happy birthday!! I’m sorry I have no specific thoughts about Shane or Ilya to ask you about at this time I just wanted to say happy birthday. If there’s something specific you’ve been wanting to share that you’ve not received a good prompt for yet or something, feel free to use this as a wild card/free space! But genuinely just wanted to say happy birthday 🎉🎉🎉
Ahh tysm, the birthday wishes are much appreciated 💖💖
I'm going to count you commenting about milk drunk Shane as a prompt bc god knows that's the only thing I wanna talk about. (previous parts are now tagged!)
SO after his embarrassing milk bar experience, Shane has an incredible even for him hot streak. He feels nourished, awake, alive on the ice in a way that's faded, and of course his first thought is the milk. His desperate googling (because he is Not bringing this up to the team doctor) tells him that there's no scientifically proven link between omega milk and athletic performance, but it's not the kind of thing that's widely studied. There are guys on Reddit swearing by adding some of their mate's milk to their protein shake, but even more commenters calling them perverts.
Shane puts it off, but he can't resist forever. Whether or not it helped his performance, he can't stop thinking about how good it felt. Shane keeps "booking" Ilya for these private nursing sessions which he tells himself are completely normal and above board and not at all deeply erotically fraught.
He knows that milk of any kind is not part of his meal plan, and certainly not ultra high calorie breast milk. But he can't resist it. They have to make plans on days Ilya won't be working because Shane is "too greedy" according to Ilya - he can't deny it, every time he gets a mouth on Ilya's breast, he's drinking until there's nothing left. They sprawl out and get comfortable on his couch, much better than the awkward booth at the bar, and Shane can rest his head on Ilya's bosom and nurse. He keeps his hands awkwardly tucked the first few times before Ilya encourages him to touch, and now he massages Ilya's other breast during or gently rubs circles on the firm bump of his belly. (Ilya's told him by now that he's not actually pregnant, just a side effect from the meds that keep him producing milk, but Shane still touches him so reverently.) And Shane's the one with a rounded belly by the time he's done nursing, pleasantly full and drowsy, feeling safe and so comfortable resting in Ilya's strong arms, nuzzled against his now-soft tits. He's too happy and milk drunk after to be self-conscious about the bloat, and afterward, he mostly avoids looking too closely until after everything goes back to normal.
I'm usually a show canon girlie but this is definitely happening at the fuck condo and due to Circumstances that I would figure out if I was actually writing this fic, Shane ends up moving Ilya into the neighboring unit bc it's just sitting there empty and Ilya needs somewhere to live and oops suddenly Shane kind of has a kept omega?? This wasn't his plan at all, and having Ilya so close makes it easy to be even greedier. Ilya's still working at the bar, especially while Shane is traveling for games, but he arranges his schedule to be available when Shane is at home, and this is when Shane really starts to realize that his constant indulgence in thick, fatty milk may be having an impact on his game but is definitely impacting his body. There is no back to normal now, there's a definitely layer of pudge over his abs, clinging to his own pecs, even during the height of the season. He has to get this under control, before it's too late...
an au where ilya is the metros new team dietitian/nutritionist and shane is pissed because he’s shane and he hates change and everyone knows how important his performance diet is to him and the nutritionist that was with the metros before has been there since his rookie season and has shane’s preferences and needs down. but he agrees to give the new guy a chance anyway. the first time they meet, shane has a variety of feelings but the first thing he notices is that ilya is chubby, not even just chubby, he’s actually quite fat, and very muscular as well but definitely fat, and very very attractive. there’s a part of shane that’s pissed because why the hell would he take nutrition advice from someone who clearly doesn’t follow a very strict nutrition plan themselves(hi shane’s internalized fatphobia) and then the other part of him imagines climbing into his lap behind the big wooden desk and pressing his palms into ilya’s belly and feeling him get hard as shane touched him everywhere.
it only makes matters worse when ilya starts going over shane’s current meal plan and starts suggesting shane increase his calorie intake as a whole and increase his carbs and healthy fats and whatnot. shane is not receptive to these suggestions at all and starts negating everything he says with excuses about why he can’t do that and whatnot.
ilya is taken aback by his responses because most athletes he has worked with are pumped to hear they can eat more, especially more carbs. he finds himself intrigued by shane and wants to figure him out.
we've talked so much about the lovely concept that is shane orgasm control, yet not NEARLY enough about ILYA orgasm control.
shane wants it so bad, ilya can't waste it jerking off alone, can he? he has to give shane what he wants, what's he's been so good for to earn. and what's the point of coming if his man doesn't get to reap the benefits and fill his hungry hole?
ilya is strong. he has great stamina. he doesn't need to if shane isn't there with him. can he even get off without shane? it's never as good.
shane wants to be full later, so ilya will be full now.
Continuing my recent theme of Chubby Hollanov role play, I keep coming back to, "I think I know how the staff likes to be treated after all these years."
Normally I pre-write these things, but tonight we're going off the dome.
------------------------------
Shane and Ilya are back at the cottage but now Shane is about 100 lbs heavier. He carries Ilya's bags in from the car and it's surprisingly tiring. Shane knows he's gotten pretty out of shape, but he didn't expect carrying a couple of bags up the driveway and steps to the house to be such a struggle.
He pauses to catch his breath before continuing in his bellboy duties.
"Right this way, Mr. Rozanov. I"ll show you your room and bring up your things."
"Yes. Let's keep this moving. I'm a very busy and important man."
"Right away, Mr. Rozanov."
Shane picks up the bags again and stars hauling himself and the luggage up the stairs.
Mr Rozanov is peppering him with questions about his room and the facilities of the hotel.
[nb: This works better if we're talking book cottage vs show cottage, because book cottage is just an objectively bigger house with longer distances to cover and more stairs. You're probably picturing show cottage anyway, I am too tbh, but just like pretend there are more than four steps up to the bedroom. For the horny plot.]
Shane is getting gassed and has to pause on the steps to reset his grip on the bags and catch his breath again. Trying to carry the bags and his belly up the stairs while answering all of Mr. Rozanov's questions has him gasping and wheezing.
Jostling the heavy bags around has caused his shirt to ride up and the lower part of his belly is now exposed where it hangs over his waistband.
Mr. Rozanov gets to be a little mean about how the quality of the service has really gone down. The staff is sloppy and slow. How the uniforms don't fit. I've been coming to this hotel for over 15 years, you see, so I know what the standards used to be.
Bellboy Shane apologizes profusely for any inconvenience while putting the bags down with a thud in the room and mentions that their hotel policy is to always ensure guest sssatisssfaction drawing out the word. ["This room is not available to the guestssss" for an audio reference of Shane hitting the extra sibilance.]
Mr. Rozanov says, "I can think of a way for you to make it up to me," and shoves Bellboy Shane down on the bed. The impact splits his pants open.
Mr Rozanov unties his tie and takes off his suit jacket and pounces on Bellyboy Shane. [Obvi he dressed up, my boys commit to the bit]
"Sir, I'm just a bellboy. You can't treat the staff like this."
"Oh, I think I know how the staff likes to be treated after all these years."
But this time instead of pinning Shane's arms, he's ripping Shane's shirt off to expose and kiss his flabby tummy.
Mr. Rozanov asks where the bellboy would like his tip. Ilya can give him a tip and maybe all of the rest of it.
At some point it's revealed that the suitcases were weighted to the tune of like 20-30 lbs. each.
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cliff marleau showing up to the hollanov house post game for sex and surprised by shane opening the door when it’s usually ilya who answers the door. cliff marleau confused by what shane means when he says ilya is in “a different mood than normal” as he leads him to the bedroom. cliff marleau standing frozen in the doorway staring at ilya who is wide eyed and teary, tied to a chair in the center of the room leaking precum and grinding his hips down on the dildo inside him, and he’s immediately begging shane to touch him when he enters the room. cliff marleau who thinks he’s died and gone to heaven watching shane tell ilya to show cliff how good he can be just to watch ilya fix his eyes on him and go very still and spread his legs wider. cliff marleau who is so so nervous about overwhelming ilya when shane gets him on the bed to be spit roasted but shane just tells him ilya “would do anything to be good right now” and then to ilya “wouldnt you baby?” to which ilya nods and whines and begs shane and cliff to fuck him. cliff marleau who feels like he leaves his body a little bit just seeing this little rare treat of ilya being fucked absolutely cock drunk and still wanting more.
on the birthday theme, thoughts on how chubby Shane and/or chubby Ilya like to be treated by their adoring husband on their birthday. who’s eating a whole cake? who’s being taken out for a fancy dinner and being made to eat their own three courses and the other’s too. who’s having all their friends brought over for a surprise party that maybe features a little bit of exhibitionism/teasing as they get to sit centre of attention on the couch being bought beer and snacks. hope you have a wonderful day!
thank youuuu! and ahhh I feel like Ilya LOVES being the center of attention on his birthday, and like, he presents it in a joking way like "of coures everyone wants to celebrate the birth of history's greatest hockey player" but actually it means a lot to him to be loved and celebrated by people who care about him. He's the one holding court over a party, unaware that Shane has Quietly Arranged to make sure that he's never without food and a drink in hand. Shane's the one who brings him the first beer, first heaped plate from the impressive spread he had catered, and that's entirely normal for them...and then when Ilya is finishing his beer, suddenly Hayes is at his elbow all "Looks like you need a refill, Cap" which doesn't immediately ping Ilya's senses bc their team is cool like that, and then Shane is Casually bringing one of the platters of appetizers over to the knot of people around Ilya bc they didn't order all this food for it to sit and get cold in the kitchen!! and Ilya is having a great time & it's not until Luca comes over absolutely PINK and almost drops the glass he's offering that Ilya realizes something is afoot. He scans the room until he makes eye contact with Shane, who smirks and raises his own glass from across the room, and now Ilya is hornier and hungrier than ever. by the end of the party he's sprawled on the couch and absolutely stuffed.
Chubby Shane gets taken to a fancy restaurant where they get sat at an intimate table in the back & Ilya tells the chef to just keep sending dishes until he's decided that Shane is done. It's luxurious and over the top and Ilya keeps refilling Shane's wine glass and teases him about how it's good that they're millionaires bc all their money is going straight into that greedy belly.
currently in the middle of writing the final chapter of a different fic, so i have to keep myself on a tight leash right now, but this idea will not leave me alone....
post-retirement fat shane standing in front of a full length mirror after finishing off nearly an entire pan of lasagna just rubbing his belly and grabbing at his fat rolls, turning himself on until he starts touching himself. and even though he's full of food, it's not enough because he's not full of ilya.
then ilya comes home and finds him like that, ilya would tease him and ask him what he was doing and if he was full, and shane would say yes, but that he isn't full enough and then ilya would make him full, both with his dick and by putting his fingers in shane's mouth. except it wouldn't just be his fingers, he would be scooping nutella out of a jar and making shane suck all of it off, only stopping when the jar was empty.
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HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAYYY just have to say im obsessed with your omega ilya milk bar world and so here for any more thoughts you have on that world in whatever form they may be 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️
THANK YOUUU and honestly the best birthday gift is for me to get to talk to people about omega ilya at the milk bar (here is that post if you missed it)
because that first night, Shane absolutely loses himself in the comfort, the gentle touch, and drinks way too much...more than Ilya is supposed to let him, but the way that Shane melts into him is strangely charming. Ilya is pretty unimpressed with alphas as a whole, but Shane nurses so sweetly, doesn't bite his nipples or try to paw between his legs, just drinks like this is the first good thing he's tasted in years.
he's so in the zone that it just feels natural to give him the other tit, even though Ilya should have at least one more full service in him tonight. he isn't surprised that a professional athlete has a big appetite (bc yes obviously Ilya recognized the Metros players sniggering at the bar and so he assumed there would be a hockey player waiting for him, but he didn't expect Shane Fucking Hollander), but this seems like a need that's beyond hunger. almost like Ilya is what he needs, and it's a thought so repulsively sentimental that Ilya is compelled to remind himself that he doesn't get to have thoughts like that about famous hockey player Shane Hollander. he teases the other omegas who act like they are in a stupid romantic movie, who think they're better than any other slut who gives alphas what they want for money just because they work in a shiny bar with velvet cushions and pretty crystal glasses.
Ilya know what it's like to be much worse places than this, and this is why he knows that the only way to move forward is to take every opportunity you're given.
which is how Ilya ends up flirting and lightly bullying a milk-drunk Shane into paying him double AND exchanging numbers.
"In case you are ever thirsty again," he says. Shane just nods dumbly. He must be awfully full after drinking all that rich, creamy milk. Ilya's tits are still out, diminished after Shane's eager nursing but still enticing enough to keep his attention as Ilya adds his number into Shane's phone and texts himself. In all likelihood, Shane will block his number out of shame when he thinks back on the night, but why not try?
After he hands the phone back, Ilya casually shuffles his tits back into his top and leaves the booth first. There are no more hockey players loitering near the bar - maybe they got bored waiting. He feels pretty smug paying out his fees to the house after just one client.
Ilya waits until the next morning, waking up in bed with his breasts full and leaky, and poses in his rumpled sheets for a selfie. He sends it to Shane with "thirsty? 🐄👅👅" before getting out of bed to pump.
The rhythmic mechanical pulse of the pump is familiar, but oddly disappointing after Shane Hollander's warm mouth on him. Ilya watches his phone, amused, as his message is marked "read." The typing bubble appears and disappears several times until it vanishes with no response. Oh well. He took his shot.
It isn't until a month later that another text appears.
The Irina Foundation’s fifteen year anniversary gala comes around, and everything is going smooth as butter until they’re getting dressed and Ilya has to breathe in to button his suit jacket. Shane can see it in his posture, the constraint in his shoulders as he checks himself in the mirror; another inch, and it wouldn’t button at all. It had been custom-tailored. Everything had.
“Are you gonna be comfortable?” he asks him out the corner of his mouth. Ilya just raises his eyebrows, half-shakes his head. His hands pet down his ample front. Then he looks at Shane through the mirror, and winks.
Ilya’s saving grace is, in a way, the fact that he tends to only do ten minutes at a time on his feet nowadays. The jacket is unbuttoned whenever he’s settled in his chair, which, after their speeches, is the majority of the evening. His shirt, Shane notices, is starting to strain around his upper arms and his middle, but none of the tight buttons give way. That’s a lot of fucking fabric, he thinks. That’s a lot of fucking man.
Shane makes his rounds, thanking donors and friends and passing the occasional canapé to Ilya, who holds down the center from his chair, doling out humor and praise to everyone who comes to talk. If the banquet hall was the universe, Ilya would be the sun tonight, and Shane is fucking proud. He feels good tonight, in himself, and the Foundation and its values, all the more so for the few rough years they’ve had over the last fifteen. He hopes Ilya is feeling it too.
“Ugh, blyad,” Ilya grumbles the moment they’re in the door, reaching down to grope for his belt buckle underneath his belly’s overhang. Shane steps in and undoes it for him. Hidden beneath the buckle, the closure of his dress slacks is already undone.
A mid-scene vignette, inspired by recent conversations with @chaiwg (!) …
Ilya stays seated until after a majority of the guests have left, looking more and more one with his chair; subtly not one of the venue’s own, with a wider seat and a higher weight limit.
“Ready to go home?” He asks Shane after that year’s top donor and her husband have disappeared through the double doors.
Shane nods. He’s tired. “Do you want a hand?” He asks Ilya out the side of his mouth.
Ilya shifts his massive weight in his seat, slowly, carefully, testing the chair and his own legs, and the hampering nature of the stomach filling his lap. His shirt buttons strain, and the side-seams of his pants. His thighs have really filled out. Shane thinks that’s underrated. “…Just hold onto the table,” Ilya replies, “It feels like made of styrofoam.”
Shane knows this technique. Casually, he leans on the opposite side of the table, holding it down while Ilya rests a paw-like hand on the edge nearest him, rocks back slightly, and hauls himself to his feet, growling quietly with the effort. Shane goes back around to meet him. Ilya is catching his breath, his nostrils flared.
“Easy,” Ilya comments, resting a hand comfortably on the small of Shane’s back. Another second for air, and then they make their way out of the room, saying the rest of their goodbyes as they do. Shane lets Ilya set the pace, their shoulders bumping gently with every other step as Ilya intently maneuvers his bulk, not so slow that Shane really has to watch himself, but slow enough that he can tell that there’s effort involved. Shane would like to see anyone else there do a five hundred pound deadlift in a suit, and then carry it outside. Ilya has earned his bit of a waddle. More than.
“Did you have enough to eat?” Ilya asks him halfway to the car.
Shane nods. “Yep. It was good. Did you?”
Ilya shrugs. “Well,” he says mischievously, “…You know what that would take.”
i just re-read your bulked up shane ficlet & it reminded me of my most cherished post-retirement hc:
that shane goes into the summer and by muscle memory alone starts eating for the bulk. it’s summer. you eat a ton in the summer. that’s what the summer is for: rebuilding the muscles that ate themselves to keep you going during the playoffs. except he fully is Not Working Out the way he used to. some of that is his fucked up knee from the last playoff runs; no tears, thank god, but enough spraining that even mild activity sets it swelling like a softball. and some of that is he and ilya are having all the nasty sex they can manage now that they never have to slow down or stop for off season training. sure they go for a 5k walk in the mornings for anya and ilya still keeps up his cardio & strength. but shane, at least, isn’t working out the way he used to.
and that would probably be fine — a slow creep, middle age spread if you will — if it wasn’t for the meds. he’s on a light dose of daily pain meds and an SSRI because studies have shown that those can help mitigate the worst of CTE-driven emotional volatility. he’s also taking prednisone for his knee and hips. and uh. all that together? yeah. he gets big *quick*, so much faster than anyone expected. it feels like every day he’s wider and heavier, and every day he’s eating a little more because he’s *hungry*, and because it’s habit, and because ilya is serving him another plate and that plate looks like a dare and a promise both, and he feels… good ? but he shouldn’t ? piling on weight after retirement is *bad*. right ? so why does eating until he can barely breathe and he’s a little nauseous and ilya grabbing his swollen upper gut and jostling all that food at looking at him like he’s the prettiest, best fattened calf ilya’s ever seen— why does that all feel so fucking good ??
anyway thank u for reminding me how amazing bulking fat shane hollander is.
- @persimmony-snicket
THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL THANK YOU FOR SHARING. every day he’s wider and heavier… “that plate looks like a dare and a promise both”… FATTENED CALF…obsessed. just loveeee shane noticing he’s putting on weight but shyly liking it and deciding to not to try to stop it, as long as ilya doesn’t seem to mind too much… and then there’s ilya doing the opposite of minding, making it his holy mission to keep his husband well-fed and full, and that he does, hand wrapped around shane’s belly as they sleep each night, savoring the way it softens from lightly-padded abs to squishy and chubby to a real, hefty, round tummy that curves deliciously from shane’s front, so much warm soft fat beneath ilya’s palms, and shane will sigh in his half-sleep and join ilya’s hand on his belly, because he loves it too, of course he does, how could anyone not
Random thought of the night about how a single Shane comment accidentally leads to a mutual kink discovery and an eventual feeding dynamic
Maybe this becomes a full fic one day if I can actually convince my brain to functionally write something lol
Ilya convinces Shane to enjoy himself at Scott and Kip’s off season wedding because 1. his husband deserves it and 2. Ilya is in the middle of medication change and drinking makes him feel like shit during a med or dose transition so Ilya can be the sober one
Shane mostly skipped the cocktail hour hors d'oeuvres, aside from the two bites he accepted from Ilya who insisted he eat something before he drinks. He eats his salmon and vegetables, leaving most of the roast potatoes behind during dinner, and he skips dessert under the excuse of being full from dinner.
However, he does end up enjoying a few glasses of red wine and both his and Ilya’s champagne from the toast. Shane is what Ilya affectionately refers to as a clingy, cute wine drunk. He wants to always be holding Ilya’s hand, and he’s teetering between sweet and sassy with his comments all night.
When they make it back to their hotel room, Ilya watches Shane clumsily undo his button down and asks if he would like some late room service or if he’s still full from dinner. Shane mumbles something that Ilya can’t hear before throwing himself down on the bed, whining about how the room is “kinda spinning”.
Ilya asks Shane to repeat himself and eventually gets an annoyed “I said I’m never full” which leaves Ilya confused. They go back and forth, Shane mainly repeating himself over and over while Ilya attempts to get more out of him than just those words, until Shane admits that he can’t remember the last time he ate until he was “actually full in his stomach” instead of when his “brain decided he should be done eating”.
Ilya hates that. He is upset that Shane has conditioned himself to limit his enjoyment of food, and he’s upset with himself for not noticing that more. It becomes a goal for him in that moment to do what it takes to feed Shane more. Not to make him feel bad or wrong in how he thinks and functions, but to show him that he’s allowed to enjoy food and actually nourish his body fully. They had come a long way since the painfully restrictive diet Shane used to follow, but clearly, it still wasn’t going as well as Ilya thought.
Without second guessing himself, Ilya orders room service. Nothing crazy, but something filling and what Shane would consider a treat on a date night or celebration dinner. He gets Shane comfortable and relaxed before gently encouraging him to eat when the food gets delivered to their room.
Neither can or will admit it until much later, but that night shifts something for both of them.
Shane cleared his plate, thanks to the wine and his husband’s loving words. He actually felt satiated, lulling him into a deep and content sleep as he clung to Ilya with a full, warm belly. Now wasn’t that an incredible feeling?
And Ilya felt a rush. It was intimate and strangely emotional, but it was also…sexy? Why was Shane eating a full meal so satisfying? No, why was choosing that meal and being the one to get Shane to eat it so satisfying?
The thing both remember most from that night was waking up and thinking, “damn, when can I convince him to do that again?”
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Ilya serving Shane a hot breakfast of four eggs, three toast, a mug of his favorite soup, an entire plate of little sandwich squares with crusts cut off (big plate, biiig portion all together, soo many little bites of goodness you just can't help but eat juuuust one uh fifteen more) a slice of pie, a tray of bacon and hand made cheesy garlic biscuits, and a cup of coffee with whipped cream and artfully drizzled chocolate sauce on top. Ilya says "Oh, wait, I forgot one thing", and plops a candied cherry on top of the cream. Shane almost creams his pajama pants.
He stands behind Shane's chair and kisses his cheeks and his forehead and his neck while he eats, reaching down to pet at his belly as it gets fuller and fuller, pushing against his shirt.
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