#(possibly)

Dotto. Inspired by Yayoi Kusama.

However, the sleeping drugs he was prescribed for his trauma-induced insomnia combined with the seasonal depression means that Simon very effectively sleeps his way through the worst time of the year.

It’s been years since Simon’s been awake for Christmas and he has no plans of starting now.

Of course, it has to be this year, of all years, that shit goes sideways. Not a mission- the few times missions have fallen on the holiday, he’s made his way through, perhaps even better than he does otherwise.

No, instead, a pipe burst in his run down apartment. And he has to spend the holiday on base, with the rest of the 141.

Price practically never goes home, only keeps a small home for if one of his boys has to take medical leave off base. Gaz hasn’t got a home outside of base, having joined the military straight out of a halfway-home. And Johnny refuses to return to his parent’s home for some reason he refuses to talk about.

So of course, they will all be on base for the holidays. And Ghost is near guaranteed to be left alone. Logically, realistically, he cannot sleep through the day like he usually does.

But the dawn breaks, and Ghost wakes. And Simon can’t stand the voices that seep in, the faint smell of smoke wafting through his room, the phantom shapes in his peripherals.

So he take the drugs. Just one pill, half his usual dose in the hopes that he’d wake if he needed to. But it’s enough to get him to a doze, half buried in the sticky hole of sleep.

He’s not sure how long he spends like that, drifting along the rough swells of his memories, before a knock on his door reaches through the fog.

Gaz’s voice. Something about breakfast, not that Simon listens too hard. A pause that seems to stretch, then Gaz’s voice again, questioning, concerned.

Simon can’t bring himself to move as the door creaks open.

He hears Gaz’s footsteps, hesitant as he catches sight of Simon’s bulk slumped into the mattress. Hears his voice, concern heavy. Feels a gentle hand upon his shoulder. Gaz’s face enters his vision briefly, his face pulled into an expression Simon is too tired to read. Gaz pulls away slowly, hand rubbing gently over Simon’s shoulder one last time, before quickly exiting Simon’s room.

Simon drifts again.

It can’t be that long after that Simon wakes to Gaz back in his room, Price and Johnny with him this time. Gaz is looking over his meds, left on his bedside table. Price and Johnny are trying to catch Simon’s attention it seems. They all look so concerned.

Gaz calls the others attention, shows Price and Johnny the bottle. It was a new one, Simon remembers blearily, only one taken out of it. Gaz seems to have realized that as well. Is telling Price and Johnny about it, about how’s there’s no evidence of any other meds.

The relief on their faces should not be as startling as it is.

Simon starts drifting again. He can feel things moving around him, can feel himself being moved. But he’s sleepy enough not to care, knowing Price and Johnny and Gaz won’t hurt him.

He sleeps for a while. Waking up occasionally. The others seem to have moved into his room. Johnny stays nestled against his side, occasionally moving to get Simon to drink some water. Gaz is on his other side, on a chair at his bedside, showing Johnny videos on his phone, tilted just enough that Simon can see too. And Price is far away either, having set himself up at Simon’s desk, seemingly going over paperwork and occasionally making a comment on Gaz and Johnny’s videos.

As the day goes on Simon spends less time asleep, more time awake. Until after dinner he’s fully awake, as much as he’d rather not be.

Simon braces himself for the anger, the accusations he’s knows are coming. Slouches down even further into the mattress, though he just ends up tucked further into Johnny’s side.

He can barely look at any of them, as the air in the room changes, grows strained.

Price clears his throat. Simon braces himself.

But instead of yelling, instead of anger or disappointment or disdain, it’s calm.

Price says, next time, come to us. Says, next time, we’ll be with you. Next time, you won’t have to do this alone.

And Simon believes him. Believes them, when Gaz smiles as Simon’s eyes fall on him, as Johnny’s arm squeezes around his shoulders.

The four of them settle there, packed together in Simon’s bed.

Next year, as the holidays draw near, Simon still sees shadows. Hears voices. Smells smoke.

HOLLANOV FIC REC

I feel like I barely had words to describe these fics individually because they were all insanely fucking hot. There is so much good fucking cake out there folks and it just keeps coming. This list could be three times as long but I had to cap it at some point! If you like this list please rec your own fave smut fic in the comments ;) sharing is caring! 💖remember to kudos & comment on fics you read 💖

Smut Heavy

🏒 free rein by eleadore / @eleadore - 18k "Stop asking me if it's okay. If I want it. You're always, like—whatever. I'm not one of your fucking girls, okay? If I don't like it, I'll stop you. I can make you stop." zannithinks: Do I even need to say anything? If you haven't read this yet, you have homework to do. Chop chop.

🏒 Aching, Aching, Aching, and Alive by verbaepulchellae / @verbam - 17k They’re getting into a rhythm now, though, and Shane can see it. He can see this team winning the Cup this year. He tries not to get ahead of himself, tries to stay focused and go game by game, reminds himself that building up a team takes time and several seasons, but god. He wants this legacy: for himself, for Ottawa, for Ilya. For both of them and everyone else. Which is why, goddamnit, now is not the time to crash out over fantasies of Ilya working his whole hand down to the wrist into Shane’s ass and fucking him on his fist. And yet. - It starts, as a surprising number of things actually do, with a text from Rose. zannithinks: This is sooo intimate and grounded. I fucking LOVE their dialogue in this one, their personalities really shine through in every moment. A fic for those that love build up and realistic hiccups before the payoff.

🏒 it's like you never had wings by creamsicle_melt / @creamsiclemelt - 16k No, Ilya isn’t a martyr, but he isn’t selfish either. Tonight he wants to be selfish. Ilya wants to use Shane. He wants to use his willingness, his body, his everything to make himself feel better. It’s a truth. Maybe an ugly one, but one that he owes to both himself and to Shane to accept. Tonight will be about him. And Shane, for his part, is a willing participant in it all. ‘I want to be useful,’ he had said. zannithinks: this is a sucker punch to the gut. Holy crap was I blown away by the sheer intensity. Mean!Ilya is not fucking joking around.

🏒 excoriation by intertwingular / @shangyang - 12k Do you want something, Ilya had asked. The answer was, as it always was, yes. But that had not been the question. zannithinks: holy crap this is so intense. Character study through sex. You're not ready.

🏒 like one of your girls by creamsicle_melt / @creamsiclemelt - 5k Rozanov posts on Instagram a lot. Not on his feed, but his stories. Every time he lands in a city, he posts a story. Usually it's just back of his seat, or sometimes the view out the window—on the tarmac, never anything exciting, one of just many cities their lives are broken up into—and a location tag. Low effort. It’s pretty obvious what it is. Guys laugh about it, call it Rozanov’s Fuck Signal. The easiest way to get the hot girls who follow him to slide into his DMs. Easy pussy. zannithinks: another from this author because the way this had me horny and crying in the club(my bed at 3AM) insanity. Seriously captivating and gut-wrenching.

🏒 wash away these things i never needed by skvadern - 4k "Ilya," he says, and knows even as he says it that he's doing it wrong. That he doesn't sound at all serious about it, winded and belly up on the couch with his boyfriend taking up all the space in the world over him. "Get off me." Sure enough, Ilya snorts and doesn't move a muscle. "Say it like you actually mean it," he shoots back, "and maybe I will." - Shane and Ilya experiment with resistance and with trust. zannithinks: ok ok ok I have reread this one several times because Ilya calling Shane out really fucking gets to me! I love when CNC gets juicy by focusing on Ilya and the thin line of that first C.

🏒 the truth hurts worse than anything i could bring myself to do (to you) by slayswilde - 4k Ilya Rozanov is 36 years old, and he can still play good hockey. At least for now. But does hockey really matter when you have a rookie Shane Hollander standing at your doorstep? zannithinks: A rare AU that has captivated my mind, body, and spirit. A two part series, I would sell my left arm for more. I truly can't praise this enough. The sex, the dynamic, the ache in Ilya's chest. Perfection.

🏒 Edge Control by cacklefruit - 3k “So horny, Hollander.” Shane can feel Rozanov’s hot breath on his neck when he leans closer. One, two, three breaths, then, “Is all for me?” zannithinks: the flooooow ! This fic is written so deliciously and sinks you right into Shane's head.

🏒 Puck Bunny by Lilbaebloo - 3k Shane wears Ilya's jersey. Ilya's brain short-circuits. zannithinks: Fun!! The way Ilya gets hot and bothered and Shane is committed to the bit. The playfulness from Shane is such a huge treat. Let that boy be a little silly while also being a sexual demon!

🏒 close to heaven by lisa6 - 2k You think he gets off on that? Hayden texts, and Shane fights off the wild urge to send back, I do, just so that Hayden can knock some sense back into him. - Shane watches a Boston game. Ilya scores goals, trash-talks, and gets Shane hard in the process. zannithinks: masturbation fics aren't my typical flavour of choice, but WOW does this one get things steamy as fuck. An educational look on how Ilya being an asshole is a big turn on for Shane. Literally.

🏒 hotel, motel, holiday inn by mandathegreat - 2k Shane’s hands shook a bit as he knocked at the door, once, twice, three times. He waited, only a few seconds before the door opened, and Ilya Rozanov stood before him. His voice cracked a bit as he spoke. “Your luggage is here, Mister Rozanov, sir.” ... - Married Shane and Ilya revisit their bellboy role-play from the cottage. zannithinks: there's something about the boys doing a little roleplay that is so captivating. Perhaps it's the comfort between them allows a freedom to be a little silly and have FUN with their sex. Also a sucker for their personalities really coming through in banter as they fuck.

more rec lists: canon/canon divergent | a/b/o + bdsm au | outsider + hayden POV | soulmates | smut

Less messy exploration of that starter vampires swap AU I was pondering about earlier ago! Featuring this AU's starting Coven members; Dr. Legundo and Avid, as well as human Scott Goldsmith, Owen, annnddd Shelby (she's basically in Drift's place here)

Bulleted AU Lore beneath the cut: