Ilya at the cottage

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[bugslibraryy]

WAIT guys im not done horny posting… one more thing… Shane and Ilya have bare sex, ok and Shane is all have you ever you know done that with anyone before? And Ilya is like hm no not really and Shane is like what do you mean not really. And Ilya is like well with girls sometimes when I was drunk and being stupid, but I’d always pull out- I’ve only ever cum inside you Shane. And Shane is like. Oh. Because it kinda didn’t matter if Ilya had- but he kinda loves that only he’s given Ilya that. And then he’s just like “I can’t really picture you being able to pull out” and Ilya is like all eye brows and “what? What kind of chirp is this Hollander? I am not so stupid to maybe get someone pregnant” and Shane is just all shrug- “well whenever we- everytime we’ve fucked, even with a condom you don’t want to come anywhere but inside me. And you push in so deep when you cum sometimes it knocks my breath out. So. I just can’t see it” he shrugs and Ilya is all.

“What the fuck shane” and he’s maybe a little hard, and Shane is like “I mean it’s really hot. I like it. I just think you’d suck at pulling out” and he’s got a little smirk and Ilya is like woooow. Turns into bickering which turns into play fighting which turns into dry humping- which turns into Shane on his back with his legs slung over Ilya’s hips, Ilya pushing into him bare and slick with lube.

Once he’s all the way inside, mouth panting against Shane’s, Shane stroking his hand through his hair he’s like “make sure you pull out okay?” And Ilya pulls back to catch Shane’s eye and that little gleam he gets in it and oh game on. Ilya is like “of course baby, don’t wanna get you pregnant, metros stand no chance without next season if you’re knocked up” and Shane’s mouth drops open and his cock throbs between them and he lets out a tiny choked sound and oh. Ilya will be investigating that more later.

But it Shane so it’s game on and he swallows and he says “mm only if you can’t control yourself big boy” and Ilya hates how much that turns him on- and then they’re fucking and Shane is squirmy and loud under him, hands all over Ilya’s chest and neck and face and down his back and gripping at his ass and Ilya loooves that he can fuck him like this now, on his back and glued close and not hiding anything between them anymore. Ilyas getting close and his brain is swimming because he won’t prove Shane right- he won’t but fuck it feels so fucking good and Shane is so tight and wet and perfect around him and his cock looks so pretty throbbing and jolting with Ilya’s thrusts and he loves the way Shane shakes around him after he’s cum and Ilya keeps fucking him through it till he fills him and he wants that and he- he can’t he’s going to be good.

And then shane is kissing him, pulling at his hair, scratching at his scalp and saying “m close” Ilya all low and soft and fuck Ilya loves him and only Ilya gets him like this and they both need this so badly- it’s the whole universe, how good this feels. And Ilya needs Shane to feel good, he’s nodding, kissing Shane back the best he can as he fucks him, harder, deeper, presses his legs apart further the leverage down and in the way Shane loves and Shane is whining, throwing his head back and mumbling “Ilya Ilya” and Ilya might die, like this, he thinks one day because it’s too good. It’s already heaven.

“Let go sweetheart” Ilya is mumbling and shane is nodding and he’s slurring out “don’t cum, don’t cum inside remember, you can’ get me preg-” and Ilya is fucking him harder then, Shane’s words stuttering off and he cums, back bowed and all over his stomach and chest and he’s so fucking tight round Ilya and Ilya is so fucking close. So close. He needs to cum- but he needs to cum inside Shane.

He’s never once had an issue with pulling out, happy to cover tits or face or ass in his cum instead, but Shane is all dazed and shivery and post orgasm gorgeous on his cock and his hands are grabbing soft and open at Ilya’s back and neck, holding him close and Shane loves being full, Ilya knows this, Ilya loves filling him, he stays inside Shane after sex for as long as he can most times and it’s not right it’s not what he wants, to pull out of the warm secure home of Shane’s body, where he belongs, where Shane takes him like it’s devotion. Ilya is shivering, his shoulder wracking as he fucks Shane and his pace is slowed and he tries to force his hips to stay on the out stroke. To pull back- but he can’t, he can’t stop driving in, helpless little fucks of his good because this feels to good, being Shane’s, connected to him, fucking him open, fitting him on him he can’t make himself stop.

Ilya frowns and looks up at Shane and Shane is head back, mouth parted, soft smile as he takes Ilya’s thrusts, his hand on Ilya’s cheek now, thumb rubbing and Shane mumbles after a big content sigh “fuck baby I love your cock” and then Ilya is whining, low and driving into Shane, all the way, sinking his cock so deep it must hurt a bit for Shane, till he has no more space to go and he cums so hard his thigh and lower stomach cramp with it, Shaking as he ruts and pushes up up up into Shane, filling him.

When they both have words again, Shane giggles, fuck drunk and swats at Ilya’s ass and Ilya is shaking his head and pinching at Shane’s sides and calling him a cheat! A fucking cheat! He didn’t play faiiir and Shane is laughing, open and happy and locks his legs behind Ilya’s back when he does threaten to pull out and kisses his head and tell him it’s okay he won’t tell alone his pull out game is weak and Ilya pins his hands to the bed to tickle him until Shane is kicking at him and flushed all the way down his chest and Ilya gives in. He slumps onto Shane, biting back his smile. Fuck Shane is so fun and lovely and hot and everything he could have ever wanted. He puts his hand over Shane’s stomach, spreading his cum out with his fingers, making a mess that Shane will start to bitch about in the next ten or so seconds but Ilya beats him to it, pulls back to look at Shane and ask “what will we call the baby?” And then Shane is pushing Ilya out of him, avoiding eye contact and flushing and stumbling on dazed legs to the shower. Ilya catches his smile in the bathroom mirror as Ilya chases after him.

[rosegarden06]

When you find your soulmate, you lean in. 🥰

[ilyaatthecottage]

the fact that we have seen Hudson and Connor being so openly emotional and vulnerable and teary eyed and honest. this is the masculinity we need.

[pregnanthudsonwilliams]

ilya sending shane $40 for plan b on venmo after they fuck raw

[perlukafarinn]

One day at the cottage, Shane and Ilya wake up super early and they're both hard, so obviously they have lazy morning sex about it. Then they fall asleep and when they wake up again they go for round two, then a third one in the shower.

"Three rounds before breakfast," Shane comments while they're drying off. "That has to be a personal record."

As soon as he's said it, he and Ilya lock eyes, the same idea occurring to them both.

This is how they end up spending the whole day trying to wring as many orgasms out of each other as physically possible.

It's fun at first, a little bit aggressive in a playful way. They try out new positions and chirp each other ("That's five for me, try to keep up Hollander!") and just generally have a great time with it.

As it takes them longer and longer to get hard after each round, the mood shifts. They are nearly constantly touching and it should get to be too much, shouldn't it, but instead it's like something's been unlocked for them, a bottomless hunger kept at bay for years because they never had enough time to satiate it.

They have time now and they are gorging themselves. It's desperate, almost frenzied, and they're not even talking in between rounds anymore, too busy kissing every inch of each other they can reach.

Eventually, they start to get tired. They've been sore for hours and it's starting to get painful now, so again the mood shifts. The touches turn gentler. Ilya spoons Shane and fucks into him, hips just barely moving because it's painful for the both of them but neither one wants to stop.

That last round lasts forever and by the time they finally come, they're both crying. Shane turns around as soon as Ilya slips out of him, giving him the softest, most tender little kiss.

"I really don't wanna get up to shower," he mutters, the first clear words spoken by either of them in hours. "I don't know if I can even walk right now. This was a terrible idea."

Ilya laughs. "It was maybe not a good one," he agrees. "I think my dick might fall off."

"Mine too," Shane groans. He tucks his face in the crook of Ilya's neck, where he is warm and sticky with sweat. It would gross Shane out if he wasn't also sweaty all over. "At least we broke double digits."

"It was a worthy sacrifice."

[mybloodstream-caffeine]

Peak situationship era, Shane's favourite part about fucking Ilya (if he had to choose a favourite, when the real answer is 'everything') is when Ilya comes inside him. Well, not really inside him, they're not that stupid, and not exactly when Ilya comes, but rather the brief moment after.

Ilya almost always makes Shane come first, gets his back arching off the bed, his neck thrashing through the pleasure, and that means his strokes stay metronome steady, a ceaseless pounding. Until Shane comes. Then, it's like the reins come off and Ilya is fucking into Shane, erratic, chasing his own release, slick with sweat, panting into Shane's open mouth, Shane hitching his legs up higher, urging Ilya in Come on come on oh fuck yes yesyesyes.

And then Ilya is groaning and burying himself so fucking deep, jerking through tiny aborted thrusts as he comes and comes and comes. And once he's done emptying himself inside Shane (not really, but close enough, close as they're allowed), he collapses on top of him. And then there's this tiny window of time where they're both breathing hard, tacky with sweat and come, and Ilya's cock is softening inside Shane's puffy hole while he lies on top of him, and for a moment Shane gets to stroke up and down Ilya's back, gets to run his fingers through Ilya's hair. And hey, if Shane's face turns and his mouth just happens to press against Ilya's cheek, his forehead, his temple, the crown of his head, then well. It's not like it's on purpose. It's just what happens.

[russianblush]

ilya happy trail and bush ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

[hutsonwoolyums]

Good morning, can we talk about Ilya "I'm not done with you" Rozanov? Sometimes Shane wants to rush things along when Ilya wants to take his time. It all feels so good that it's really not Shane’s fault he turns into this gasping, needy, trembling thing, begging for more, please, Ilya, need it now. But Ilya slows him down, gives Shane two fingers to suck on so he can quiet his mouth and his mind, and then it's just, I'm not done kissing over the back of your neck, I’m not done biting into the muscle of your thigh, I’m not done giving you my cock. I'm not done with you. I'm not done, I'm not done, I'm not done.

[bugslibraryy]

You know Ilya goes fucking insaneee when Shane asks if he belongs to him. Like Ilya goes mental for being owned. Shane is being fuuucked, like dicked the fuck down by Ilya, fucked into the mattress in a way that is making the bed frame ram the wall and Shane can hear it- how hard he’s being fucked, the wet squelch of Ilya's cock driving into him, his balls slapping against his line soaked hole.

Shane’s nails are scrambling down Ilya’s back, leaving dark marks, his breaths are loud hiccuping gasps and cut off moans and his head is rubbing against the mattress under him squirming wriggling head thrown back in pleasurepleasurepleasure and god Shane loves being fucked so much. And Ilya growls and starts fucking him harder, deeper, somehow and Shane just gasps out.

“Love your cock oh my god” and Ilya is nodding frantic into his throat, biting at his neck. “For you” Ilya slurs out and Shane goes “yeah? It’s for me?” And his voice is pitchy and dazed and he’s he’s so fucking hard leaking wet and messy all over his cock and hip. Ilya nods nods and says “yes sweetheart for you” and Shane whines, broken sound and his toes curl and his leg kicks out, a jolt of his prostate being bullied by Ilya’s thick cock and Shane is nodding and is all.

“Yes, fuck my cock, all mine, belongs to me” and ilya is whining like a puppy, biting at Shane’s ears, jaw. And Shane is being fucked beyond thought, sense.

“Mine mine mine” Shane breathe, his hand fists tight into the back of Ilya’s curls and pulls, twists hard.

“My fucking cock Ilya. Made for me, made just for me, isn’t it? To fuck me like this- oh god” he shakes because he’s so close but he can’t stop “you belong to me, your cock belongs to me Ilya belongs inside me I’ll look after it I’ll always make it feel so good I promise I promise it’s all mine I’ll be so good to it. Love your cock. My cock” and Ilya is like.

Jesus Christ. I’m going to die. He feels insane, at being owned, at being made for Shane and knowing how badly he’s needed at Shane, Shane Hollander being possessive of him.

He pins Shane harder and he’s fucking him brutally, whole bed moving with it and he pulls back enough to look at Shane, face blissed and red and saying “mine mine mine” as he arches his back and whines and cums all over his tummy, just from Ilya’s cock fucking him open. Ilya cums so hard sounds pitches out and his head gets heavy dizzy and he shakes shakes shakes through it, through filling Shane and collapses forward onto Shane’s body. Head pressed into his chest.

[crossnecklace]

hey so shane spitting in ilya’s mouth. wait hold on let me paint a picture: he’s riding ilya into oblivion on the sofa, just grinding back and forth on his cock so fucking deep and slow with one hand cradling the back of his head and the other fisted in his curls. ilya may as well be a part of the furniture cuz he is fucking useless beneath him, head tipped back and unfocused eyes flickering between shane’s face and the place where their bodies connect. shane always thinks he looks so gorgeous like that, flushed and holding on for dear life, totally surrendered to the feeling of being inside of him. and he’s staring at his wet open mouth and brushing his bottom lip with his thumb, breathless and awestruck at how beautiful it is to have ilya like this, so soft and vulnerable and all for him, only for him. and ilya hasn’t said a word, but they make searing eye contact and then he opens a little wider and shane just knows what he’s asking for. so he gathers the saliva in his mouth and lets gravity do the rest, cupping ilya’s cheek and letting it fall onto his tongue, then bending down to kiss him so fucking sloppy as they both fall apart for each other <3

[lucylehane]

I don't have a caption I just really like this scene

[heylolita00]

[mothinthelight]

I made some Hollanov iPhone wallpapers 🦆

[kaleidographiks]

sharing a hollanov lockscreen/wallpaper i made for myself because they live in my mind rent free and i needed to see them 24/7 ♥️★✨

[ericaseavey]

Hudson Williams & Connor Storrie for Quinn Lockscreens Part 2 ♡

♡ like/reblog if used or saved :)

[hutsonwoolyums]

This installment of Suck Him Off Sunday is brought to you by this moment and my inability to stop thinking about what might have happened in Shane’s apartment that night. This is the last time we see them together in this particular montage before they start forsaking all others to be addicted to their phones, so I’ve been wondering what might have happened then. Here’s one idea.

It’s a familiar place by now, this scary alley behind Hollander’s apartment. But when Hollander opens the door, his energy is different. He’s all restless, fidgeting and bouncing on the balls of his feet, reaching for Ilya’s wrist to all but drag him up the stairs. Once they’re inside Hollander’s apartment he’s pulling at Ilya’s clothes, pushing at Ilya himself as they head toward Hollander’s bedroom. It’s infectious. It’s intoxicating. Ilya doesn’t even try to hide his grin as they move up the stairs, bodies and mouths connected the whole way.

At the top, Hollander murmurs against Ilya’s lips, “Already got myself ready. Need you to fuck me.” 

“Christ, Hollander,” Ilya says as Hollander pulls him toward the bed, smiling.

After that it’s a blur of kisses and discarded clothes and then Hollander’s back is arching as Ilya pushes into him. Ilya has a tight grip on Hollander’s hips and not much else. He feels giddy with how Hollander greeted him ready to get what he wants, with how what he wants is Ilya. And, fuck, Ilya wants him too. It’s just that there’s nobody quite like Hollander. How he looks so pretty all spread out on the bed. How he groans and swears and shudders when Ilya fucks him. How he can take everything Ilya has to give. So maybe Hollander’s energy affects him. Maybe it loosens his tongue, makes him say “fuck, Hollander,” and “oh God, Hollander,” and “taking me so good, Hollander,” a bit too often, too awestruck.

After they finish, he flops down on the bed beside Hollander, and neither one makes any move to get up. This happens more and more lately, one or both of them drawing it out, not even talking, really, just dwelling in the sex-spell that hangs over the room as they catch their breath and the sweat dries.

Tonight, Hollander is loose and lax against the pillows, eyes closed and wearing that small, pleased smile he gets when he thinks Ilya’s not looking. Ilya rolls over onto his stomach and lets himself look. He looks at Hollander’s back as it rises and falls, looks down at where Hollander’s legs are still spread, where his hole is soft and open, and Ilya can’t help it, really he can’t, he just has to—

Hollander makes a small, questioning sound when Ilya’s fingers find his hole, not pressing in, just giving the lightest teasing touches against the skin there. “You were ready for me,” Ilya says, a little mischievous, a little questioning, and Hollander must feel too good to be shy because he says, “Mmm, yeah, didn’t want to wait.” 

“Is hot.” 

“Fuck off,” Hollander says with a grin.

Ilya huffs out a laugh as he starts to press one finger inside, moving slowly and with the barest of pressure, relishing in how Hollander’s body relaxes even more into the mattress below him.

“Is this ok?” he says, even though he’s not completely sure what he’s working toward here, but Hollander’s quick to say, “Mmm, yeah, feels good,” and his eyes are still shut and he looks so sweet, so Ilya keeps going, pressing in until he’s as deep as he can get from this angle, then pulling out just as slowly. It doesn’t take much before Hollander’s hips start to shift on the bed, before his breath picks up, and even though Ilya can’t see his cock he knows Hollander is getting hard again. He pulls his hand away, ignoring Hollander’s protesting whine, grabs the lube from the bedside table and gives Hollander a gentle slap on his hip. “Turn over,” and he does, easy as that.

The sight of Hollander so open and trusting and all for Ilya makes his stomach flip. Ilya moves in close, hands and mouth near Hollander’s cock, and lets his eyes flick up to Hollander’s face. His eyes are open now but heavy-lidded, and he’s just watching Ilya, lip trapped between his teeth.

“Can I? I think you’ll like,” Ilya says, fingers once again teasing over Hollander’s hole, and he hasn’t even explained what he wants, not really, but Hollander just nods. Ilya gets his fingers slick and slides two in this time, a slow drag to let Hollander adjust. But then Hollander’s groans pick up, and his cock is so hard and leaking at the tip, and he’s gasping out, “More, I need—please, Rozanov.”

“Yes, yes, Hollander, I know,” is all Ilya can say as it crashes down on him how badly he needs to get Hollander’s cock in his mouth.

Hollander must know how much Ilya likes blowing him. Ilya knows he gives it away in how quick he is to do it, in how he can’t help but moan from the first taste of Hollander on his tongue until he’s swallowing Hollander’s release. But Hollander shows he likes it too. He asks for it often enough, and it makes him noisy in his Hollander way, all bitten off curses and whines and Rozanovs. It’s all so good it makes Ilya feel drunk.

Ilya’s not one to deny himself what he wants, so he takes Hollander’s cock down in a single, smooth motion that has him arching off the bed immediately. Ilya flings his free arm over Hollander’s hips to hold him down and keep his fingers and mouth in place, and Hollander’s hands find Ilya’s hair, and it’s perfect, getting to touch and be touched like this. Ilya is used to people wanting things from him during sex, used to giving and giving and giving. But with Hollander it’s different. Even tonight, with Hollander’s needy, grasping hands all over him, Ilya feels a balance, like Hollander wants to give and give and give right back.

Hollander’s unraveling quickly, though Ilya keeps his fingers gentle and his mouth soft. His hips are bucking against Ilya’s hold on him, and he’s whimpering each time Ilya’s fingers press deep inside. He’ll come like this, Ilya knows, and the thought makes Ilya suck harder.

“Jesus fuck, Rozanov,” Hollander grits out as his hands go tight in Ilya’s hair, tugging hard, and oh, oh fuck, it’s Ilya groaning now, loud even around Hollander’s cock in his mouth, so loud that Hollander’s eyes fly open and he says, “Shit, shit, sorry,” but Ilya’s shaking his head, pulling off his cock, clearing his throat to say, “Again.”

Their eyes meet over Hollander’s cock, wet and straining toward Ilya’s mouth, and Hollander raises a questioning eyebrow.

“You like that?”

“Da, yes, fuck, Hollander,” Ilya says before dropping right back down onto Hollander’s cock, keeping his eyes open and eager as he starts up the rhythm that had Hollander moaning under him moments ago.

There’s a second of hesitation before Hollander’s hands go tight in Ilya’s hair again, but then it’s back, that perfect stinging pressure that has Ilya’s eyes rolling back into his head.

“Fuck, you really like that,” Hollander says, and it’s all Ilya can do to breathe as he tries to focus on making Hollander come. Ilya really, really wants him to. He wants to feel the pulse of Hollander’s cock in his mouth, to feel Hollander’s hole go tight around his fingers, so he redoubles his efforts, curling his fingers up right where Hollander needs them and burying his nose into Hollander’s soft belly, and that’s all it takes for him to come. Ilya would be more than happy to just stay there as Hollander softens in his mouth, but he’s being pulled up roughly by his hair to meet Hollander’s lips, the sting of the tug making his cock twitch.

Ilya’s shaking a bit and achingly hard, just rutting his hips down against Hollander’s thigh. He feels dizzy from Hollander’s tongue in his mouth, Hollander’s hands pullingpullingpulling with the most perfect aching soreness. In between kisses Hollander breathes out, “Want you to come, just from this,” and all Ilya can do is moan as he’s pulled into the next kiss. Hollander learns fast. It might actually be a problem.

Ilya’s hips pick up speed, and then they’re not even kissing anymore, not really, not with Ilya too desperate and close to do much more than pant against Hollander’s mouth. But Hollander’s strong hands are gripping his hair and Hollander’s beautiful brown eyes are watching him so closely and Ilya doesn’t, can’t, look away as he spills between them, wet and messy, before he falls limp, half on top of Hollander.

It takes a moment for Hollander’s hands to move in Ilya’s hair again, but they do, and this time it’s so gentle, just strong fingers lifting Ilya’s sweaty curls from the back of his neck over and over. Ilya hums his pleasure and opens his eyes— when had he closed them?—to see Hollander’s keen gaze still fixed on him.

“Good?” he says, and Ilya grins, nods, and says “good” right back.

[dailyhollanovgifs]

he was so desperate...