#alpha ilya

"Are you coming to the game?"

"I dunno. I have a paper due."

Ilya smiles, that coy, flirty one that pretty much gets him whatever he wants. "But you love hockey."

(Or, alternatively, omegaverse hollanov in college featuring whipped alpha hockey player ilya and feisty med student omega shane)

3 down, 2 more to go! for @iceouthr

This one required a bit more brain power when it came to thinking of ideas, but it turned out well enough. (I might come back to add more in like a series, but for now it's good where it is)

as always, thank you so much @overwhelmed-alien so helping me LOL

Excerpt: Shane dove, wings slicing through the air, the tips brushing the sparkling surface of a stream. A trill burst from his chest—half laughter, half challenge—as a flash of silvery-blue scales erupted upward, fangs snapping shut just shy of his trailing feathers. He banked left sharply, letting the rising breeze catch beneath his wings and sling him higher into the morning light.

Below, Ilya hissed, his tail rattling with impatience. His slitted eyes were locked on Shane with a single focus.

Shane’s heart skipped—a flutter of exhilaration rather than fear. None of the other Alphas had ever been so determined or come so close. The thrill curled through him like a second heartbeat. He circled lazily overhead, wings glinting, teasing with every downward dip. Then—at the last breath—he pulled up sharply, letting the wind hurl him skyward just before Ilya could strike.

Again and again, they danced that dangerous edge: Shane swooping low enough to feel the heat of Ilya’s breath, Ilya lunging with lethal grace, never quite catching, and Shane spiraling skyward, trills of joy echoing across the meadow.

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, E, 28549 words

“Happy winner,” Rozanov says, kissing Shane’s hip. “How does it feel? Good, yes? Such a strong alpha.”

Despite the teasing lilt, a soft, rolling r in strong, Shane can tell that Rozanov is being sincere. He has never gotten the impression that Rozanov uses it as an insult with him—unlike every time he whips it out mid-game to taunt an opponent, or to provoke someone in an interview. Shane blinks down at him, and is reminded of what this is. Of why, in every way, they are implausible.

Rozanov adds, “What?”

“You just never call me that,” Shane says. His grip on Rozanov’s shoulder tightens.

Hii baby bug!! and YEAHHH I adore this take soooo much. As a strong kiss drunk Ilya believer generally yes yes yes pre rut makes it all sooooooo much worse.

Ilya in his and his omegas nest (on their nest!!) after his sweet omega had asked him after dinner if he’d like to come and sleep in the nest with him tonight. (He’d been asking for a couple nights, but Ilya was too nervous, too wanting to protect, too unsure that he’d made sure the house was safe enough before he could finally rest and indulge in the safe softness of a nest, his perfect mates nest.) but his rut is coming soon, he can feel it in the leg pains, stomach cramps, the teeth aches. It’ll be soon and when his Shanya asks, scenting Ilya by nuzzling his face all over his neck and chest Ilya finally agrees. He’d spent the better part of the day checking the house, laps of it, scenting along the way, making sure they had food and then going for a run. But the buzzing under his skin was finally starting to run into something heavier and needier. Shane is so!! Happy when his alpha agrees to come to nest (and relived, Ilya gets so anxious, so worked up and Shane can feel his alpha needs to be looked after, to rest to let himself have his rut with Shane). So they climb into the nest and it’s lovely and perfect and cosy, a mix of their clothes and sheets and blankets and a sweet mix of their scents and the softest most lovely blanket in the center, Shane’s favourite, soaked in the omegas scent.