multi-fandom but mostly audio fiction (tma, midnight burger, tpp, amelia project, tsv), arcane, whatever else strikes my fancy. header by @arcanegifs. I follow as casthewise.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more snippets or the masterlist so kindly put together by @tafkarfanfic. mhl awards part two out of four! this is mostly a transitional scene into the next big event.
MHL Awards, 2015
The awards ceremony is a blur.
Shane wins MVP, as he and everyone else was expecting. He gets on stage, gives his prepared speech. Smiles like he should, stomach clenched tight and cold sweat prickling at his forehead. He hopes the presenter doesn't notice the tremble in his hand when he shakes it.
Brian is here. Not in this room but in this city, possibly even this hotel. Shane doesn't know. He didn't actually call him back after Rozanov hung up on him and he hasn't replied to any of his texts or calls since. He just... he needs to get this ceremony over with before the inevitable fight.
Because Brian is probably mad and Shane. Shane is furious.
It's been eight years of Brian keeping his most important secret and he picks tonight of all nights to risk it like this? What the fuck is he thinking? He can't actually think that Shane would be happy to see him here, can he? Shane can't even see him, not without risking everything.
At least his speech went off without a hitch. Shane doesn't think anyone noticed he was off and if they did, they'd probably chalk it up to nerves.
It should be nerves. Shane should be on top of the world right now, celebrating another career high. He should be looking forward to what's going to happen after the party - what was going to happen, because he doubts Rozanov is interested in a repeat performance today, considering how they ended things earlier. He didn't even get to come, because Brian's announcement that he was in Vegas effectively killed the mood.
Shane just wants this night to be over.
About an hour into the afterparty, Shane finally manages to sneak away to call Brian from a single stall bathroom a little ways from the ballroom.
"So your phone does work."
Shane inhales slowly. He's not going to yell, that would be unproductive. "Are you fucking kidding me."
"You don't get to be angry," Brian says, voice cold. "After that stunt you pulled? What the fuck was that? You thought I wouldn't notice? Like I don't know what you sound like when you're getting fucked."
A small pang of guilt pierces Shane but for once, it doesn't deflate him. The anger stays, lodged like a hot coal in his chest. "What are you doing in Vegas, Brian?"
There's a long silence on Brian's end. That probably wasn't the reaction he was expecting, Shane thinks wryly. Under usual circumstances, it wouldn't be.
"It's a big night for you," Brian finally says. "I wanted to be there to support you."
Bullshit.
"You know I can't see you."
"You can see him," Brian mutters, and the anger inflates in Shane's chest, a balloon set to burst.
"He's my colleague," he bites out. "We're both supposed to be here. What fucking excuse were you gonna come up with?"
"I didn't - " Brian stutters. "I thought you could sneak out. That you'd actually want to see me."
Shane thinks about reminding him of how in demand he is tonight. That he just won MVP, that even dodging out for a few minutes to take this phone call is gonna have some people wondering where he went.
"I can't do this right now," he says instead, not wanting to prolong the argument. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Shane -"
Shane hangs up. There's a hollow sense of satisfaction, that for once he didn't cave. Didn't let the conversation end on Brian's terms, the way it always seems to fucking do.
The feeling evaporates quickly. In its place, there's just anger and exhaustion.
I feel it’s maybe time we talk about the Ibiza honeymoon? And like, the fact that Shane specifically wants to go there because he thinks Ilya would be magnificent in that kind of hedonistic party environment. I feel like Shane likely hasn’t travelled a ton outside of hockey - he’s probably been to Mexico a few times, to Europe to work and maybe once or twice on vacation? But all his parents’ money would have gone to hockey, hockey-related travel, and their cottage… and Shane is the type of guy to do all his brand management stuff in the off-season, and spend his time training instead of travelling when he doesn’t have any big hockey obligations. Plus the Foundation camps.
But he knows Ilya used to traipse around Europe in the summers, and he knows he was a club rat, so despite the fact that it makes Shane feel like he’s gonna puke, he’s incredibly excited to, like, not only see this side of Ilya but to experience it with him.
But before we talk partying we gotta talk about transport.
They get picked up from the airport with a very highly rated private service and rent an obnoxious villa on a fucking cliff over-looking the water because they can. It has a gym, infinity pool, private beach access and various other amenities, including a huge wine cellar with included sommelier, and a garage of sports cars and motorbikes/scooters. They take the cars a few times, and the Montrealer in Shane fucking relishes in the chaotic pace of Spanish traffic (which Ilya has not yet had the opportunity to see and is a little shocked by, but finds incredibly hot).
It takes more for convincing for the motorbike.
“I don’t want to end up in the hospital on our honeymoon—”
“Who said anything about hospital? Hollander, I am an expert. I would drive all around—”
“Yeah, and you shouldn’t have been doing that, anyway! They’re death traps!”
“One ride. Just quickly around.”
“Ilya.”
“Shane.” He comes closer, sliding his hands over Shane’s hips. “You, with your secret fucked up driving? You will love it, I promise.” He squeezes his hands and shrugs innocently. “And if you’re too scared you can follow me in a car.”
“Fucking—” Shane cuts himself off. Glares. “If we get hurt you’re gonna break the news to Weibe. And my parents.”
Ilya gleefully hands him a helmet.
“This is peer pressure,” Shane grouses as Ilya helps him put it on.
“Mm,” Ilya hums, straddling the bike. He puts on his own helmet. He’s not hot. At all. “Now, behind me. Feet on the little things on the side—yes, perfect.” He revs the engine like an asshole, and Shane firmly tells himself that isn’t hot, either. Neither is the way Shane wraps his arms around him, or how he has to hook his chin over Ilya’s shoulder to hear him over the noise, or when Ilya smirks and says hold on, Hollander before they take off like a fucking shot. Shane swears in surprise, arms squeezing Ilya’s middle. He can he feel him laughing and can’t help but grin back.
It’s… okay, it’s fun.
Ilya eases off the speed a little so it isn’t quite as terrifying, takes the turns more slowly, and is careful with the cracks and potholes. Eventually, the fact that he’s holding back becomes more annoying than sweet, and Shane takes advantage of an empty road at their more sedate pace to cuddle up against Ilya’s back more thoroughly. “This how you normally drive?” Shane yells against the wind.
He can feel Ilya shrug. “Precious cargo!” He yells back.
“Don’t worry about me!”
Ilya glances back at him, raising a brow. At the squeeze of Shane’s arms around him, he smirks and fucking guns it. They weave through traffic, around potholes, and take turns that have Shane’s heart in his throat and his adrenaline pumping. “If it’s too much, you say!” He hears Ilya yell through the wind.
It’s not too much. It is so embarrassingly not too much that he gets hard and horny enough to rub up against Ilya and feels him laugh delightedly. When Shane sees a good spot up ahead he grins. “Hey! Pull over up there!”
Ilya glances back, confused, but does as he’s told. “Are you—”
Shane has his helmet off almost before they’ve stopped, sliding off the back of the bike and walking backwards towards the trees. His hands are already undoing the button and zip of his shorts.
Ilya does that thing he does sometimes; the wide-eyed blush as he mouths wow, like all the air has been stolen from his lungs. He scrambles to follow.
first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more snippets or the masterlist so kindly put together by @tafkarfanfic. this is the first of (probably) four mhl awards scenes, so big things are coming! this is also the longest snippet so far! this one goes out to the anon who asked for more sex scenes not fading to black 😘
MHL Awards, 2015
Shane texts Ilya his room number just as he's arriving at the hotel. Taking it as the invitation it's clearly meant to be, Ilya checks in to his own room before heading straight for Shane's.
He's the one in the penthouse this time. Ilya appreciates the full circle moment but the reminder of the last time they were in Vegas also sets off a spark of anxiety in his gut.
A whole year they've been doing this, and what has changed? Shane is still with his useless boyfriend. Cracks have started to form in the foundation of their relationship but Ilya isn't sure what more he could be doing to encourage their growth. A part of him still can't believe it didn't end the moment Brian caught them together.
If Ilya only had more opportunities to see Shane - but such thinking is especially useless now, when he's about to head to Russia in just a couple of days.
He'll have to make today count.
He knocks. Just a couple of seconds later the door swings open. There's a teasing comment on the tip of Ilya's tongue about Shane's eagerness to see him but it dies swiftly as Ilya actually looks at him.
Fuck, he looks good.
He's even more beautiful than Ilya remembered, somehow. There's a new air of confidence to him. Not that Shane has ever been anything but fully secure in his skills, but Ilya has never seen him carry that off the ice in this way.
"Get in," Shane urges quietly, and Ilya obeys.
"Winning looks good on you, Hollander," Ilya tells him as soon as the door has shut.
Shane smiles, quietly satisfied. "Yeah?"
"Yes," Ilya says, and reaches for him, unable to go another second without kissing him.
Shane breathes sharply against his lips, startled even as his arms wrap around Ilya's shoulders, pulling him closer. Ilya backs him into the wall, presses their bodies together. It's like a knot has come loose in his chest, feeling Shane against him like this. He missed this.
"Winning feels good," Shane breathes as their lips briefly part. "You didn't tell me."
"You wanted me to rub it in more?"
Shane laughs and kisses him again. Ravenous and impatient with it, Ilya reaches down and wraps his hands around Shane's thighs, lifting him off the ground. Shane gasps, hips twitching, the hard line of his cock pressing against Ilya's stomach.
The bed is farther away than Ilya accounted for and his arms are trembling when he finally reaches it. He deposits Shane gracelessly onto the mattress, making him bounce.
"Smooth," Shane says with a smile, tugging on Ilya's shirt to pull him close.
Ilya obliges, climbing on top of him and straddling him. "Ungrateful," he tuts. "Next time, I will drop you on your ass."
"You won't," Shane says confidently. "You like my ass too much."
Ilya snakes his hand around Shane's waist, reaching down to grab a handful and squeeze. "Hm, maybe. Is a very good ass."
He dips his head, kissing a trail down the column of Shane's neck and grinning at the way Shane melts. Ilya bites down, Shane's skin soft and warm underneath his teeth. He wants to bite him everywhere, wants Shane covered in reminders of him. Wants to draw blood, sometimes, feel it spilling hot on his tongue. It drives him crazy, this gnawing hunger he has for Shane.
"No marks," Shane says belatedly, sounding dazed, and Ilya pulls away.
"No fun."
"I'm about to be on stage in front of a bunch of our colleagues," Shane reminds him.
Ilya smirks. "You are so sure you will MVP?"
Shane shrugs, unrepentant. It's bordering on cocky, or it would be if Shane didn't have the talent and record to back it up. Still, Ilya doesn't think he would admit it to anyone else. The thought thrills him.
"And what does Mr. MVP want as his reward?" Ilya teases.
"I want you to fuck me," Shane says immediately.
Ilya raises his eyebrows. As if today was going to end any other way?
"Now," Shane adds. "I want it so hard I feel you all night, while I’m up on that stage."
Ilya's cock pulses hotly at the thought. Shane Hollander, MVP and Golden Boy, giving his polite little speech in front of all of the most important people in the league while aching with the reminder of Ilya's cock inside of him. Limping ever so slightly, enough maybe for people to notice, if Ilya fucks him hard enough. They wouldn't know why, but it would be enough for Ilya that they'd see it.
A quiet way for him to mark Shane as his, in front of the whole world.
"Yes?" Ilya says, voice low and rough. "You want everyone know what a slut you are for me?"
Shane swallows, pupils blown wide as he stares up at Ilya.
"You want them to know that even though you are Stanley Cup champion, you still bend over for my cock?"
"Fuck," Shane whines, squirming where Ilya has him pinned down by the hips. Then, "Yes. Please."
He moves to sit up and Ilya lets him, the two of them pulling off each other's clothes with clumsy eagerness. Shane's cock is dripping when Ilya finally tugs it free from his underwear and Ilya gives it a couple of quick, teasing jerks that have Shane whimpering when he pulls away.
"Spread," Ilya says, and then pushes Shane's legs apart anyway, because he likes the feel of those powerful muscles giving so easily at his touch.
He pulls the lube and a condom from the nightstand, grinning at the way Shane's dark eyes track him hungrily.
"Eager for it," Ilya teases.
Shane blushes, pink and splotchy down to his chest. "Yeah."
Ilya leans in, kissing him as he presses the first two fingers inside. It's a stretch but Shane moves his hips into it shamelessly, moans muffled against Ilya's lips.
Ilya fucks him quick and rough, adding another finger as soon as he can. They're both eager for it and they don't have much time for gentle prep.
They'll have more time tonight; Ilya will take Shane apart then. Fuck him until he's crying and still begging for more, until he's got that faraway, fuck-drunk look in his eyes.
"''M ready," Shane says, humping impatiently into the air.
Ilya curses and pulls his fingers out. He's just rolled the condom on when Shane's phone starts ringing.
Shane throws his head against the pillow, groaning.
"Don't answer," Ilya tells him.
"It's Brian," Shane mutters. "Only he has this ringtone. It's so I know not to answer in public."
"Okay," Ilya says. "Don't answer."
He pushes the head of his dick against Shane's rim, feeling it flutter. Shane moans, pushing his hips into Ilya's touch, phone forgotten.
And then it starts ringing again.
Ilya bites out a curse as Shane goes tense against him. He pulls away, trying not to pout when Shane sits up.
"It could be an emergency," Shane says, apologetic. He angles the phone away from Ilya as he answers, "Hey, what's up?"
Ilya can faintly hear Brian's obnoxious voice from the other end of the line, but he can't make out any words. Shane's expression is tense, eyebrows drawn, and Ilya can't tell if he's annoyed they were interrupted or, for some inexplicable reason, feeling guilty they were caught.
"Yeah," Shane says. "Yeah, just checked in."
Then again, they haven't actually been caught. Brian doesn't know that Ilya's there, sitting naked in bed with his boyfriend, Shane's hole worked open where just moments ago it was clenching tightly around Ilya's fingers.
Ilya grins.
"Ceremony's in four hours," Shane continues. "It's pretty long, yeah."
Ilya lifts his hand, placing it on Shane's thigh. Shane's eyes dart up to meet his, widening in alarm.
"What are you doing?" he whispers, tucking the phone against his neck.
"Don't think about it," Ilya says, inching his hand higher. "Talk to your boyfriend, he has something important to say, yes?"
Shane glares at him, moving to pull his leg away. He stills when Ilya's grip tightens and just stares, cheeks growing redder, as Ilya pushes his thighs apart again.
"Uh," Shane says, eyes snapping back into focus. "Sorry, I missed that, what'd you say?"
Ilya settles between Shane's leg, hard cock grazing his inner thigh. Shane's eyes follow it, wide and bewildered. He looks so sweet like that, a startled rabbit; it makes Ilya want to bite him even more.
Ilya moves his hand down and Shane's own hand twitches, as if to grab it and stop him. He doesn't, and when Ilya's fingers rub at his hole, one fingertip dipping inside, he practically melts into it.
"That's, uh, Davis from accounting, right?" Shane says in response to Brian's inane chatter. "Uh-huh."
Enough teasing, Ilya decides. He grabs both of Shane's legs, pushing them against his chest. Shane lets out a small, shocked sound as he tumbles backwards flat on the mattress, cut off by a gasp as Ilya fucks his cock inside of him in one smooth movement.
"S-sorry," Shane says, hand grabbing uselessly at Ilya's shoulder as he starts to fuck him, thrusts slow and shallow. "Just, ah, dropped something."
Ilya smirks. He lets go off one of Shane's legs, reaching up to cup his chest and pinch at his nipple. Shane's mouth pinches at the effort to keep quiet, inhaling sharply through his nostrils.
"Yeah," he says, voice tight. "Right."
Ilya fucks into him, cock buried to the root, and Shane throws his arm out, phone out of reach just in time as he groans, "Oh my fucking God."
"Mute him," Ilya suggests mildly, as if he isn't just as affected, sweat prickling at his forehead and abs clenched at the effort of not fucking into Shane again.
Shane puts the phone against his ear again. "Sorry, I gotta - someone's at the door."
He mutes it and throws it down on the mattress, and Ilya lets out a satisfied laugh as he starts fucking him in long, hard strokes. Shane's legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in tighter, chanting, "Fuck, there, right there, oh God, fuck -"
Ilya reaches between them, pumping Shane's dick a few times. Shane comes with a shocked sounding "oh my God", cock pulsing wetly in Ilya's hand.
Ilya slows his thrusts, stopping as Shane reaches for the phone again. He unmutes it, letting out a few gasps before holding it to his ear.
"Sorry," he says breathlessly. He probably couldn't sound more freshly fucked if he tried. "I just - someone was - sorry."
"You've been so scatterbrained since you won that cup, I swear," comes Brian's tinny voice from the speakers. Shane's eyes widen as he realizes his mistake, but Brian goes on, clueless to his audience. "Anyway, I was just saying that Davis' plans with his girlfriend's cottage fell through."
Shane puts his hand over Ilya's mouth - rude, like Ilya doesn't know when to shut up - and responds, "Right, so the trip with the guys this weekend isn't happening?"
"It is, actually," Brian says, sounding pleased. "I suggested we do something different this year. Vegas."
Fuck. Ilya knows where this is headed. So does Shane, judging by the way he pales.
"Vegas?" Shane repeats weakly.
"We flew in yesterday," Brian says. "Surprise!"
Shane blinks up at Ilya, stunned. Ilya stares back down at him.
Slowly, Ilya reaches up and moves Shane's hand from his mouth.
"Shane?" Brian says.
"He'll call you back," Ilya says, and takes the phone from Shane's hand.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
ilya and svetlana's physical comfort and affection with each other even outside of sex is very important to me, so i want it to continue after shane and ilya are together, with shane settling into it and working through his own jealousy/insecurity about svetlana because i think platonic physicality is very important and sweet
and because it offers the very funny idea of poor svetlana tucked away in the corner of the couch with ilya's head resting on her stomach and shane laying against ilya with his head on his shoulder, which aw. cuddle puddle. ilya getting to be touching his two most important people at the same time.
but also there is now a total of 400 pounds of hockey player standing between her and freedom if she needs to get up
*face slaps face slaps rousing them from a nap because yes yes so cute but she needs to pee so MOVE your giant selves*
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Once he accepts the reality of it Shane literally loves being in love— You can talk to me about anything. You can talk to me in Russian, I want to make you feel better. Come to my front door. Come to my cottage. Let me figure out a plan to keep you. We’ll figure something else out, okay?
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
yousharknotpass
2087
snowghoul
izzy806
germansingergirl
andulkaphoto
romaincrisis
janainaart
prguitarman
pixelskylines
