well I think hollanov get horny in the cens arena at some point and find themselves an empty room. shane blows ilya on his knees and ilya brings him back up to tug at his cock mercilessly, talking dirty to him in low hungry tones. problem is just as shane's reaching his peak a knock sounds on the door. "cap?" one of their teammates says, muffled. shane's eyes widen and his breath hitches and ilya's hand closes over his mouth. his other hand doesn't stop. oh fuck oh fuck— "ya!" ilya says, raising his voice to be heard through the door, still looking in shane's eyes. shane is trembling all over as the cens player says, "hey, hollzy with you? coach is looking for you both." "yes, yes, we were just discussing something. tell him we will come now." ilya adds only the slightest emphasis to those last two words, but shane's body catches onto it instinctively, and he comes. his eyes roll back in his head and his hips jerk up into ilya's fist as their teammate goes, "alright, I'm heading out after that. see you guys tomorrow." and ilya says, "see you," over shane's muffled noises. footsteps recede from the door and by the time they're gone shane is done, slumped against the wall, breathing hard. smiling dazedly at a grinning ilya and saying, "you fucking asshole."
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hollanov fic: sleepy cuddly morning sex + quiet dirty talk
it's cold outside their blankets. ilya lies flush against shane's back. his arms hug him close. their legs lay tangled together in the duvet. shane woke first but allowed himself the lie-in. they don't have practice today, and shane doesn't have any commitments with friends.
ilya woke a few minutes ago, making it known by rubbing shane's stomach, but neither of them have said a word. content to exist in the knowledge of each other's soft attention. ilya's hand continues to move across shane's skin, palm flat and circling his bellybutton. shane's cock is thickening against his thigh. ilya's mouth, which has been releasing warm breaths over the nape of shane's neck, purses into a kiss against the soft hair there.
"malysh," he mumbles, so quietly. shane hums. "are you going out today?"
his words have soft edges, drowsy. "no," shane replies, just as quiet.
ilya's turn to hum. the movement of his hand doesn't cease. he shifts closer and nestles his clothed erection between shane's cheeks, making shane inhale and push back against him. ilya hasn't moved his hand down shane's body.
"are you hard?" ilya asks, without urgency.
they both still have their eyes closed. they're nowhere but here. shane says, "yeah."
quiet noise of acknowledgment from ilya. "do you want my hand?"
shane breathes, "yeah."
"mmm."
ilya doesn't give him his hand. he drags it up shane instead, resting it on one of his pecs. gently squeezes the muscle—once, twice, slow. shane grunts and arches into it. ilya kisses his neck again. then he uses just his first two fingers to begin circling shane's nipple. shane moans, quietly. his cock gives a hard throb. one more.
ilya lifts his fingers to shane's lips, murmuring, "suck."
shane does. ilya's fingers are salty. and warm. he pushes them in and out of shane's mouth, along his tongue, in a slow fuck. when he withdraws, a string of spit extends from the tips of his fingers to shane's bottom lip. ilya either doesn't notice or doesn't care. just moves his hand back down, draping the spit over shane's chin as he does, and starts gently massaging shane's nipple with his wet fingers. shane moans again. longer now. ilya rubs his cock leisurely into the cleft of shane's ass, humming deep in his chest.
"you like that, kotik?" he rumbles. shane nods into his pillow, reaching back to tangle his fingers in ilya's hair. ilya's face nuzzles into his neck. "love touching your tits," he says into shane's skin. "your nipples. they are so hard for me. like your cock, mmm?" shane makes a quiet, plaintive noise. ilya pinches him. "you get so hard for me everywhere."
"yeah," shane breathes.
"yeah?" ilya echoes, and shane lifts his jaw to invite ilya to kiss along his neck. ilya obliges him. shane sighs.
"yeah."
they lapse into a brief semi-silence; shane breathing through ilya's attention to his nipples, ilya moaning low as he works himself up against shane's ass. when his hand finally leaves shane's chest, skating back down along his abdomen, shane finds himself holding his breath. his cock is wet inside his boxer briefs. and aching. ilya whispers into his ear, "breathe, moy lyubov" and shane takes some air in just as ilya pushes his hand beneath the fabric of his briefs and holds his cock, firmly.
shane lets out a sound like it's been shocked from him. his body curls inwards, around the point where ilya is holding him, and ilya laughs softly. presses his wrist into shane's pelvic bone, urging his hips back against his cock. "come back, malysh," he teases. his hand starts working over shane under his briefs, and shane starts moaning in earnest. ilya exhales roughly in his ear. "you are so eager," he murmurs, drawing out the "so". "so horny for me in the morning, hm? just woke up and already need to get fucked? my needy boy... fuck, you are getting me all wet, shane."
and shane whimpers because he can feel it. the way ilya's fist is becoming slick with his precum, easing his movements into an obscene glide. up, down. up, down. ilya draws his hand out of shane's briefs for a moment and tugs the waistband down, tucking it behind shane's balls before reaching back up for his cock. heat rises in shane's cheeks at the sounds ilya's hand makes around his newly freed cock—distinct, wet fwips that cause shane's arousal to spike so hard his body lurches towards the edge. ilya moans loudly, presumably just as affected by it. his hand speeds up.
"mmm, fuck," ilya says. smearing open-mouthed kisses over shane's ear. "does it feel good, kotik? hmm?" shane nods, beyond words. ilya bites his earlobe and shane whimpers. "you are... fuck, moy lyubimyy, you are like a dream. like I am still asleep and fucking you, and when you come for me I will just wake up."
shane rolls his head against his pillow in vague dissent. "no," he slurs. "'m yours, ilya. your—fuck. oh. oh, ilya. oh m'god—"
"shane. are you gonna come, sweetheart?" shane inhales raggedly, nods minutely. frantically. "good. good boy. come for me, baby." ilya's fingers pull quickly beneath shane's cockhead. "yes. shane. come for me now, sweetheart—ah—fuck..."
shane is releasing into ilya's hand. twitching against him. moaning desperately. ilya holds him, kisses him, murmurs a litany of praise and encouragement in his ear. that's it, moy lyubimyy. you are so good. let me have it. good boy, shane.
after, shane relaxes into ilya's arms. spent, panting. ilya kisses over whatever he can reach of shane's face. shane, eyes closed, smiles faintly. he shifted away from ilya in those final moments—now he moves back. finds ilya hard, still.
"are y'gonna fuck me now?" shane mumbles. he hears, and feels, ilya huff a laugh against his cheek.
"oh, if you insist," ilya says, and shane laughs, rolling over onto him.
thanks for reading!! reblogs are super appreciated ❤️
shane and ilya lying at opposite ends of their living room couch. shane has his glasses on and is doing some work on his laptop. ilya, unbeknownst to shane, is browsing sex toy shops on his phone. at some point he goes "shane" and beckons shane to come over to his side of the couch. shane puts his laptop onto the coffee table and shifts over to ilya, settling between his legs with his back to ilya's chest. ilya hums and says "what do you think about this?" and shows shane his phone.
shane immediately blushes, caught off-guard by the image of the sleek black toy on the screen and the words 'Prostate Massager' at the top. ilya continues "you think you would like it? look, it has sooo many settings. i think this one would be fun—pulse mode. hmm? i could use it on you while i am blowing you, mmm or maybe while you are blowing me."
and shane's like (gulp) breathy voice yeah it looks good. but then ilya is switching over to another tab—and oh my god he has so many tabs open from this same site—and it's like a cock ring or something and he goes, all casual-like, "i was also thinking we get this one. can use it with the massager. it has many good reviews" and he starts reading each of these reviews to shane. right up against the shell of his ear. saying the things people have said like "this toy is amazing. my partner edged me 6 times before i came" and "i actually cried by the time my orgasm hit", making encouraging comments to shane in between about how "you love being edged, moy lyubimyy. hmm?" and "yes, you would cry. i want to see that"
he keeps doing this for all the other toys he's bookmarked, going through their features and reviews and suggesting specific ways they could use them, and shane is shifting, squirming, so hard he could die. he's soaked a wet spot through the front of his grey sweatpants, inches away from where ilya's fingers are resting, but ilya's not doing anything about it.
eventually when ilya's done thoroughly going through each of shane's options, he tells shane to choose the ones he wants (unless he wants them all; ilya only wants to make him happy) and shane blinks heavily through the haze of his arousal, says "the uhm... the first two." and ilya, playing dumb, asks "which one, kotik? i have forgotten" forcing a sweetly embarrassed shane to help ilya navigate through the stack of tabs and say out loud, "the prostate massager. and the uh. the cock ring." ilya kisses him on the temple then and goes "thank you, shane. you can go back and work now"
and shane gives him the most baffled look. he can feel ilya's stiff cock against his back. he tries pushing against it. "ilya..." but ilya is taking no hints, just frowning at him. "what, shane? do you need something?" "i- i mean- aren't you-" and ilya raises his eyebrows at him. "i just needed your opinion, shane" like they'd been shopping for groceries and ilya just needed input on which coupon to use.
shane, flushed, just says "ilya... please. i'm so hard" and ilya makes a face like he's surprised and finally reaches down to wrap his fingers around shane's cock through his sweatpants, making a small delighted noise. "oh. you are so hard, malysh... and so wet. you couldn't control it, ah? so excited thinking about what i'm going to do to you with your new toys?" and shane nods desperately, humping into ilya's fist, neither of them acknowledging that ilya is just as turned on. they then have crazy hot dripping sex about it and afterwards in bed ilya places the order for the toys while shane watches on from beside him, still completely blissed and fucked out 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
ilya pleasuring shane and when shane gets close ilya slows down. whatever he was doing he continues doing at half speed, because he wants to see the orgasm overtaking shane in excruciating detail. he wants to lock eyes with shane and see shane's go hazy as his focus draws inwards towards the mounting pleasure. he wants to see shane's mouth going lax and his tongue shifting mindlessly inside. curling like it can taste his orgasm coming. he wants to hear shane's harsh, strained, shallow breaths struggling to maintain themselves under the weight of his pleasure. he wants to feel every desperate twitch of shane's cock and involuntary clench of shane's hole in the final moments before release. and when shane finally comes—eyes squeezing shut, mouth falling open, moaning, spasming, covering ilya in his seed—ilya releases a sound like he's come too, because bringing shane that slowly to orgasm was as intense to him as having one himself
oh is it wet shane wednesday already? awesome. i think ilya has different ways of enjoying how wet shane gets. one of them goes like this:
he'll undress shane but leave his briefs on, then tease him until he sees a spot of dampness appear on the fabric. "there it is" he'll say, pressing just a fingertip into that tiny spot, right into the the head of shane's cock. this singular, intense bit of sensation on his thus-far neglected dick will have shane crying already.
not that ilya is done. that would be such a waste.
he'll withdraw his touch and resume his teasing. plucking and sucking shane's nipples. licking wet lines into shane's most sensitive of areas—his neck, from the secret hollow behind his ear to the point neck gives way to shoulder; the slight dips between his defined, tensing abs; the warm, heady creases where his groin meets his inner thighs.
and in between each checkpoint ilya will push up and admire and coo over shane's wet spot, which has always noticeably spread since the last time ilya checked. "look at it, you're doing a very good job for me, malysh." "oh, it is very big now. you like it when i lick you here? [does it again]" "yes, shane. yes. moy lyubimyy, let it out. give it to me. fuck."
and he'll keep doing this until shane is sobbing ugly, begging for ilya, promising whatever. and ilya will finally peel shane's briefs from his skin—really peel it, because it's sticking that much—and lick the fabric while looking shane in the eye. but then eventually it'll be too much for even ilya and he'll throw shane's briefs away and get on his elbows in front of shane's weeping dick (weeping just as much as shane himself) and ilya's first taste of shane's precum right off the tip of his dick will have him groaning so loud he doesn't even hear shane's response to it.
shane comes immediately. ilya gives him no time to recover before he's fucking him into next week.
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shanepussy scenario 🥰 scroll to the end* if you want to immediately know what happens in this ficlet. otherwise just let shane take you (and ilya) on a journey ❤️❤️❤️
shane is naked and straddling ilya's bare waist. ilya is running his hands up shane's thighs, hips, waist, squeezing them there and then dragging them back down. "come here" he murmurs after a little, gently but insistently pulling shane's hips forward, and his intention is clear. he loves when shane sits on his face—the way his wetness flows straight down into ilya's mouth. it makes ilya feel crazy. it makes shane crazy to hear ilya describe it. "it is like I am drinking from you" he said once, and shane nearly passed out.
anyway shane gets slicker just thinking about it, but "wait..." he resists the pull of ilya's hands and ilya relaxes them. "I actually wanna try something first." ilya nods quickly and easily, always eager when shane proposes something new to do in bed. he loves when shane explores his desires. he didn't allow himself to do that for so long. "okay. of course" he says.
shane smiles all soft and sweet and leans down to give him a kiss on the mouth. ilya reaches up to cup the back of shane's head, deepens the kiss until it turns wet and filthy, until shane moans in that way that indicates he's getting lost in it. mission accomplished, ilya grins and tugs lightly on shane's hair, and shane seems to snap back to himself, leaving one last peck on ilya's lips before migrating down his jaw, his neck, across his collarbone. leaving little wet kisses along the way. then he moves lower.
ilya hums deep in his chest when shane seals his mouth around his nipple and sucks gently. cards his hands through shane's hair, which shane makes a happy little noise at. then he sucks harsher, and ilya inhales quickly through his nose. his nipples aren't as sensitive as shane's, but it's not a bad feeling at all. especially not when shane pulls his lips back and digs in very lightly with his teeth, pulling upwards. "fuck, shane" ilya says appreciatively. curiously. he still doesn't know where shane is going with this. tracks shane keenly as he leans back up to sitting on ilya's torso and replaces his mouth with two fingers—pointer and thumb—and squeezes. hard. ilya makes a small, aborted sound and shane smiles. he's looking at ilya's nipple. it stands up strongly now: pebble-hard and puffy. shane looks slightly breathless. maybe excited. definitely excited: ilya can feel warm wetness smearing against his stomach from between shane's legs.
"okay" shane says quietly, mostly to himself, and ilya lightens his touch on shane's body to give him freedom as he begins to manoeuvre himself over ilya. at first it seems like he's just climbing up to fuck ilya's face anyway, but then he's stopping over ilya's chest, angling himself to the side, reaching down to part his pussy lips further with his pointer and middle finger (giving ilya a clear view of the wet folds inside) and lowering himself—
ilya swears. hard, in russian. and then he keeps swearing. because shane fucking hollander, the insane and beautiful man that he is, has sunk ilya's nipple into his soft wet pussy and is grinding his hips down on it. shane, for his part, moans so loud when his clit first makes contact with ilya's nipple that the air in the room vibrates with it. it feels—so fucking good. oh my god. it feels so, so fucking good. he cannot keep his hips from rolling over the hard little nub and he cannot stop himself from whimpering. it's coming out of him unbidden. he just got going and already he can feel an orgasm coming. he really can. he really—
a loud, shuddering moan leaves him as he comes. his hips move with urgency over ilya's nipple, and ilya grips his thighs tight where they're braced over his chest. "blyat, malysh" he says, spits it. he's looking down at where shane is pulsing around him. where a pool of excitement and release is forming on his skin. he reaches between shane's legs and finds his clit with his thumb, rubbing slowly and watching shane twitch and gasp from oversensitivity. "it feels that good, kotik? you came so fast. fuck, I am hard." shane moans. his squirming is quickly resolving into rabbit-y little thrusts against ilya's finger. "wan' another one" he mumbles, and ilya growls. removes his thumb from shane's clit so he can angle it back down onto ilya's nipple. find a rhythm with his hips again. ilya quickly coats his fingers in shane's wetness and reaches for his angry cock, which he'd neglected as he'd watched shane chase his own release. he's not going to last long. neither, it seems, is shane.
"oh fuck, ilya" he gasps. his thrusts are getting wilder, more forceful, less coordinated. it is a lot to have a 200lb hockey player riding your chest, but ilya thinks all the training he's ever put himself through since his debut must have been leading up to this moment. nevermind his cup wins. "fuck. this is so—so hot" shane says, and ilya groans. shane echoes him. "so hot. fuck. I—I need to—I'm gonna—" shane's eyes widen "oh fuck, ilya, wait, I'm gonna—"
and then shane is lifting himself off of ilya and squirting hot liquid all over his chest. ilya's orgasm hits him like a train. he isn't sure what sounds he's making. he's just fighting to keep his head above water so he can keep witnessing shane. "fuck—oh—oh fuck" shane is saying, in spurts, in between the spurts of liquid his body is ejecting. he's shuddering all over. bent double. eyes squeezed shut. it looks like he's in pain. it looks like he's never felt anything this good in his entire life. "ooooohhhhh fuck" he gasps. and finally—finally—he collapses. spent. done.
for a long moment there's nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing.
a slightly more casual, less polished ficlet for y'all tn hope that's ok! (scroll to the end* if you want to know what happens in this before reading it)
hi everyone. tonight I am imagining shane and ilya at some fancy event. what event doesn't matter; what does matter is they're in very expensive suits and they are very horny for each other, and for reasons etc, a quick handjob or blowjob in the storage cupboard they've locked themselves into isn't gonna suffice. they need to Fuck. now.
unfortunately they find that neither of them has a condom on hand—they stopped using them for regular sex (i.e. at home or in hotel rooms) a while ago, and while they agreed to keep spares for emergencies SUCH AS THIS ONE, they just forget to replenish their backups sometimes.
so now they have a big problem. because ilya NEEDS to fuck shane, and shane NEEDS ilya to fuck him. but shane cannot be ruining his fancy suit by having ilya's cum leaking out of him while they're mingling with like. brand reps out there.
ilya has shane up against a wall and is grinding his cock into shane's ass and they're both pawing desperately at each other even though they know they can't do what they want to do about it. and then ilya suddenly says, "let me fuck you. I will handle it. shane, let me fuck you." and shane (1) is so far gone already and (2) trusts ilya so completely that he doesn't pause for even a moment to question it, just lets ilya pull his pants and underwear down and fuck him brutally with his hot naked dick. (they at least did not forget their lube packets.)
they both come, shane into ilya's fist and ilya into shane's ass, and shane feels the familiar warm wetness of ilya's release fill him up inside. then ilya is pulling out and dropping to his knees—and shane thinks he's going to either pass out or moan loud enough for every passerby to hear when ilya places his mouth to shane's hole and starts sucking his own cum out of shane :)
after he's done ilya stands up and turns shane around and gives him the biggest most self-satisfied grin and says, "see? all gone. no need to worry." and shane kisses him so hard they nearly knock everything over in that damn cupboard :)
TGISHOS (THANK GOD IT'S SUCK HIM OFF SUNDAY) 🙌 we're stepping directly into ilya's shoes for this one with some second person pov, mostly because i wanted the reader to have a specific visual of shane in mind as things are happening—the visual ilya would be treated to, up close and personal. perhaps this is a spiritual successor to my post about how unfair it is that ilya gets to fuck The shane hollander whenever he wants. i frequently imagine what it must be like to be so blessed. here is one particular imagining.
tags: blowjobs (obviously), facials, degradation (very light), second person pov, pov ilya rozanov
You're staring down the length of your body at Shane, who is kneeling naked at your feet—his hands behind his back, because that's where you told him to put them; his eyes unmoving from where your cock is nestled in your hand. The swollen tip of it hovers inches away from his pink, parted mouth. You readjust your grip just to see what happens when the head of your cock shifts to the side, and are rewarded by Shane subconsciously mirroring the movement, like a dog tracking its treat. You laugh low. Give yourself one long, unhurried pull.
"You want my cock, Shane?" you say, not really a question. Anyway he nods.
"Yes."
You hum. "How much?"
"So much." You swear he hasn't made eye contact with you since you took your underwear off. It's like when you're naked your cock becomes the window to your soul to him, instead of your eyes, and maybe there's truth to that. There's no hiding the way you harden there at Shane's proximity, no explaining away the precum that leaks in response to Shane's obedience. If he gets it right, he'll know. Shane likes knowing when he gets things right. "Ilya, I want it so much."
"You can be more specific than that," you murmur, and Shane whines.
"I—it's killing me, Ilya. I need you in my mouth now. Please. I'm so ready for you. I want you to fill me u—"
A heavy thwap cuts his pleading off definitively. Shane's eyes are wide and his mouth is frozen open. You can see a shiny smear of precum high on his cheek where you slapped your dick against it. Abruptly, he moans—apparently over his surprise. He's breathing heavily. He swallows, and you wait for him to say what he wants to say.
"Again," he says, in a small voice, and you groan.
"Shlyukha," you say, and swing your cock against his cheek again. This time his mouth falls all the way open at the impact, and seemingly before he can help himself he's turning his face against your cock, rubbing his cheek on it, mouthing along the vein on the underside. He looks absolutely gone. You curve your free hand around the crown of his head and fist your fingers in his hair, then tug him up to where you're throbbing at the head, nudging it against his bottom lip.
"Show me how much you want it, moy lyubimyy," you say.
For how eager he is he still starts with restraint, giving your head open-mouthed kisses, the same he'd give your mouth. You hiss softly at the feeling. His lips sliding soft around the head and his tongue moving almost curiously into the slit—as if he hasn't done this to you a hundred times. It's good, a teaser. But his patience only lasts so long. He pushes down further, and you moan deep in your chest.
"Fuck, like that, lyubimyy." Your hands aren't guiding anymore, just resting—one on the back of his head and the other over a warm, flushed cheek. Concentration pinches the skin between his eyebrows as he fucks your cock into his mouth. "You are so good at taking me. From front and back, hmm?" His rhythm stutters at that, and the moan he lets out vibrates down your entire length. You growl, low, and shunt your hips forwards. He gets the message. Keep going.
"Love your fucking mouth," you murmur. "Fuck. So fucking wet... you are drooling, Shane. So excited for your food? Hm?" He moans again, twice in quick succession, as if to say yes, yes. You laugh, but it's mostly air. "Bet your cock—is just as wet right now. Fuck... If you make a mess—hah—on the floor, you'll have to—clean it up."
Shane moans near-continuously now. Like he's the one getting blown to pieces. But the orgasm is coalescing behind your cock, drawing your balls in. You gasp, and grab Shane by the hair at the back of his head, and pull him off urgently. A delicate string of spit bridges the sudden gap between his bottom lip and your cock. Your fist takes over from his mouth, blurring with the ferocity of the movement, and for the first time since you began Shane looks up at your face. His eyes are sheened with tears. I love the face you make when you're coming, he said once. It's so fucking hot.
But there isn't time for that. "Close your eyes," you grit out, and he does, immediately. Because he's a good boy. The best.
He trembles as your cum paints his face. Some does go over his eye, catching in his lashes. Some lands across and in his gasping mouth. Beautifully, most ends up over his cheeks and his nose. When you're done, you reach a hand out and rub it into his skin, right over his freckles. He hums contentedly. So good.
"Okay," you say, lazily, noting the way his hands are still behind his back—you don't think he moved them for even a second. So, so good. "You can touch yourself now."
reblogs are hugely appreciated!!! thank you for reading x
