i lied im not sleeping im thinking about sugar daddy shane buying a $250,000 watch for ilya and ilya wearing it everyday and then they’re getting ready in the locker room for practice and someone whistles super loud and is like “damn cap, you spent my entire salary on that watch or what” and ilya takes it off gently and places it in his duffle and looks up at all the boys looking at him “no, shane bought it for me.” and then everyone is hootin and hollering and shane walks in from the physio room smiling at the antics asking everyone what’s going on and someone is like “roz just told us you’re his sugar daddy.” and shane rolls his eyes and starts getting his skates out “so i like buying pretty things for my pretty husband, sue me.” and ilya is like “you think i am pretty?” and shane frowns cutely “of course baby.” and then the entire locker room starts gagging and someone yells out GAAAY and then ilya is like “i will show you gay! Shane take off your pants.” And then shane throws a sock at him. anyways they fuck after practice and shane calls Ilya his pretty boy when he rides him.
I wrote about this in a fic of mine recently, but I can’t stop thinking about it so I’m gonna mention it here too… imo, part of why Ilya falls so hard for Shane at first is that he’s so sincere when it comes to sex in a way Ilya has no idea how to process. Like imagine being baby Ilya and your two (known, at least) sexual partners so far have been Sasha and Svetlana (side note: can bro only sleep with people whose names start with s?) who are canonically shown to be more playful and bratty when it comes to sex, both being proactive, responding to his flirting by flirting back so when he says things like “get on your knees” they would be like “make me 😈”. And so you like, internalise that or whatever, and you end up in Canada playing hockey and your biggest rival is checking you out in the shower so you’re like, fuck it, who could be brattier than a guy who has every reason to hate me, and so you go to his room to have hatesex and instead he’s the subbiest sub to ever sub who just melts like, the instant you give him any kind of direction in the bedroom. And then imagine you’re also dealing with all this pressure from your hockey career and your abusive family, so you actually kind of desperately want to have control over something, anything in your life. Of course you’re going to go a bit insane and end up in an eight year situationship where you’re constantly sexting him in public and meeting up for hookups at every chance you get even though it could totally ruin both your lives if it came out. Like how else are you supposed to respond in those circumstances.
For the kinky ficlets, can I humbly request hollanov + some sneaky exhibitionism? Your choice on who's watching and why but I think Shane would go crazy knowing someone sees him being so perfect for Ilya. Bonus points if the person watching also gets off on it :)
Eheheheheheh u got it boss
—
Stained Glass: A Hollanov Ficlet + Luca Haas
rating: e | wc: ~1,770 | tags: exhibitionism, voyeurism, mild d/s dynamics, semi-public sex (in front of window), anal, facial 😛
-
The lobby was a clusterfuck while Wiebe fought as politely as he could with the receptionist of the hotel, then the manager of the hotel, but there was nothing that could be done. They were one room short with everyone already buddied up and all beds taken and no other rooms available.
“I’ll just go to the hotel next door. It’s really not a big deal,” Luca announces, falling on the sword to solve the problem. “We’re only here one night anyway.”
“No, Shane and I will go, it’s fine. I am captain, I should go.”
Shane puts an arm on Ilya. “Exactly, you’re the captain. You need to be with the majority of the team, Ilya.”
Ilya sighs, looking to Wiebe, whose red face is starting to cool. Coach shrugs and gestures to Luca. “Okay, bud. Looks like you’re on your own tonight.”
Ilya pins Luca with an overly sinister stare. “Are you sure you can behave, party boy? Be in by curfew without me having to check?”
Luca snorts. “Yes, cap. I’ll be just fine, I promise. I’ll meet up for the bus bright and early.”
“Good. We will do something nice for you for your sacrifice. We will storm our brains,” Ilya smiles, patting him on the shoulder.
There’s babbling commotion as everyone heads to their respective rooms to unwind. A few drinks together at a local bar, and the team calls it a night. Ilya is already handsy on their way up to their room, and Shane only protests slightly as he scans them through the door. Ilya’s lips are on Shane’s neck, hands slipping under his shirt, and Shane is laughing at the eagerness.
“We’ll get there, tiger. Hold on a minute. I probably drank more than I should’ve.”
“Little lightweight,” Ilya chuckles into his neck, squeezing his waist before letting Shane escape across the room. He pulls open the curtains to take in the view. Not much of one. Their seventh story window looks into the next hotel over a courtyard. Most of the curtains across the way are drawn shut, but he does notice one as Ilya’s hands find him again, his mouth back on his neck.
“Look, I think that’s Luca,” Shane mumbles as Ilya’s teeth work over his skin.
“What is Luca?” He mutters back, sounding entirely uninterested in anything but Shane’s body in his buzzed state.
“Look,” he says again, bumping his shoulder and pointing a finger at a man in an armchair across and one floor up from them. It’s definitely Luca, his knees up on the chair with a sketch pad and some sort of writing implement in his hand, his forehead pressed against the glass and staring out.
“Mmm, do think he wants a show?” Ilya whispers against his ear, groping Shane’s ass as he grinds his cock against him.
“Ilya,” Shane laughs, but tilting his head to the side for Ilya’s lips.
“I think you want to,” Ilya says, sliding Shane’s shirt off over his head as well as his own.
“Ilya…”
“I think you get jealous when you see Luca look at me like he does.”
“I don’t…” Shane objects, but he doesn’t move to stop him.
“I think you want to show him who owns me. Who gets to be fucked by me at the end of the night. You wanna show him how good you are for me?” Ilya lures, kissing over his shoulder and slipping both his hands into Shane’s joggers to grip his bare ass.
“Yes,” Shane finally admits breathlessly. His eyes flicker up to Luca’s window, and Shane freezes.
Luca is staring right at them, one of his feet dropped to the floor. Shane glances at Ilya, and sees him looking as well, directly at the man. It’s like Luca can’t look away.
In one swift move, Ilya jerks down Shane’s bottoms, and Shane whines against the window. “This is a bad idea.”
“And you want it so fucking bad,” Ilya growls, pulling his cock out and rocking it into the split of Shane’s ass.
“At least turn the light off.”
Ilya exhales over his skin and nods. He flips off the main light, but lightly dims the lamp on the desk, enough for a silhouette. When Shane looks back up at Luca’s room, he’s turned off his light as well, but the moon illuminates him enough that he can see both feet on the floor, knees spread.
“Stay there,” Ilya orders, kissing his hair.
Shane pants against the cold window, fogging the glass, but he can see the shift of something moving up and down in Luca’s lap. Shane’s gut flips at the knowledge of what his teammate is very obviously doing, even after clear eye contact had been established. It was like Ilya had silently invited it, as if he was under Ilya’s spell like he had been since he was a kid. It should piss Shane off, it should soften his cock, but it doesn’t. Shane is rock hard and pressed against the dark window, gazing up at Luca’s moonlit fist as his cock drools against the glass.
He feels Ilya behind him, then wet fingers at his partially stretched hole from where Ilya fucked him this morning.
“I’ll be quick. I know you want this cock. Know you want to show him how desperate you are for me.”
“Shut up and fuck me,” Shane snips at him, a mixture of the alcohol and the horniness and the anxiety of having an audience.
“Fuck, I love when you get bitchy with me,” Ilya growls through gritted teeth, removing his fingers and pressing his tip to Shane’s ass.
“Then you’re gonna love me if you make me wait any longer,” Shane groans, digging his fingers into Ilya’s ass and urging him forward.
“I thought you wanted me to give you a minute,” Ilya smirks against his ear. “Pulled away from me and everything.”
Shane tilts his head back, glaring at Ilya’s lightly intoxicated, sloppy grin. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
“Oh, I’m so scared,” Ilya whispers in a teasing tone, nosing behind his ear and groaning into him as his cock breaches his hole.
Shane’s head flops back bonelessly onto Ilya’s shoulder as he his mouth drops open in a moan, pressing back onto Ilya’s dick now that he’s inside.
“Oh, you want it, huh?” Ilya coos, sinking into him inch by inch, making him wait. “You want my cock?”
“Yes, sir,” Shane relents, reverting to what he knows works when he has something he wants.
“Mmm, you know I love that, baby. Know just how to work me, huh? Too bad Haasy can’t hear you. Maybe we should let him some time,” Ilya croons, at last bottoming out as deep as he can in their standing position with Ilya’s knees slightly bent. Shane whines, writhing on his length, feeling so full and yet so unsatisfied.
“Ilya…”
“Beg me to fuck you,” he growls, grinding his cock agonizingly inside him. “Be a good boy for me. Tell me how bad you want it. Just for me to hear.”
“You're killing me, Ilya,” he moans.
Hands lash out, snatching his wrists and binding them behind his back, arching him by his shoulders against Ilya’s body, pushing a gasp out of Shane’s mouth.
“Do it,” Ilya spits. “Do it, and I’ll fuck you until you cry. Let Haasy really see what I reduce you to, yeah?”
Shane whimpers, his eyes flicking up to Luca’s window, and all he sees is a slowed movement in his lap.
“He’s getting bored, baby. Give him some excitement, yes?”
“Please,” Shane whines, shuffling his feet to feel his cock jostle inside him. “Please fuck me, sir. Show him how you fuck me.”
Ilya hums hungrily in his ear, releasing his arms, and Shane steadies himself against the glass with both hands, leaning forward. Ilya grasps his jutted hips and begins to slam into him relentlessly from the start. Shane is loud against the glass, expanding the probability of other teammates hearing on either side of them, but it wouldn’t be the first time. They’ve been raucous in a hotel room more than once, teased endlessly by their fellow Cens, but they had hidden their love for long enough to care much.
Ilya takes him by the hair, jerking him to look up at Luca, whose hand is now moving much faster. “Oh, he likes it, doesn’t he? Look how naughty he is, baby. Might be as naughty as you, huh?”
Shane can’t even verbalize a response, just keening and whining against the glass with distorted pleading as Ilya forces his cheek against the window.
“You can come when he comes. Make it good for him,” Ilya instructs, thrusting into him hard and rough and purposefully avoiding direct pressure on his prostate.
“Please, Ilya,” he moans, fiending for his own release, but then he sees it. He sees grander movement in Luca’s window, his hips moving sharply until the finally still, and his silhouette collapses into the chair.
“Well, look at that,” Ilya sings in his ear, biting his ear and fucking into him just right. “Come for us, baby boy. All over the window.”
Shane groans, jacking his cock until he spurts all over the glass, the barrier fogged to hell and now splattered with his own spend.
“On your knees. Now,” Ilya orders, pulling out of him and manhandling him down onto his knees, guiding him sideways for ideal viewing of his actions. “Mouth open.”
Loose and compliant, his jaw drops and his tongue falls out, tiny, needy noises escaping his throat. Ilya jerks himself off, crying out as his come hits Shane square in the face, over his tongue, his chin, his nose as he squeezes out every last drop on him. He slaps his cheek with his spent cock, dragging it through his release and accumulating it to shovel into Shane’s open mouth. His lips close around his softening length as he swallows down what he’s fed.
“So good,” Ilya praises, smearing whatever is leftover on his skin with a proud grin.
When Shane glances at Luca’s room again, the curtains are shut.
—
Practice the next morning sees a lot of cajoling by their teammates, as expected, but a mysteriously silent Luca Haas.
In between drills, Ilya bumps Luca’s shoulder with a broad, shit-eating grin. “What is the matter, Haasy? Didn’t like your late night entertainment? Looked like you had a good time from where we were standing.”
Luca blinks, shifting his eyes to Shane, and he can feel the blush on his own cheeks as sharply as he can see it on his teammate.
Actually FUCK IT list of times Shane calls Ilya baby:
- Ilya gets a sunburn during the first cottage summer and neither of them realize it until Ilya is taking his shirt off that night and Shane sees the lobster-red flush across his shoulders. He sucks in a hiss through his teeth and says, "Oh, baby, ouch," and presses the big, broad pads of his fingertips so tenderly to Ilya's shoulder and Ilya has to close his eyes because he feels like he's going to crack apart.
- When he answers the phone and he's alone. "Hi baby," said so softly if it's been a long day. Or a hard one. Or if it's late. "Hey baby," more energetically, usually in the morning, in a way that reminds Ilya of how his teammates answer the phone to their girlfriends and wives. Masculine and jockish and very North American in a way that makes Ilya feel pleased for Shane, in a weird way.
- Glass on the floor in the kitchen. Ilya blindly following the sound of the shatter and not really even thinking about it until he's standing amongst the shards and Shane is gesturing frantically with the broom. "Put on some fucking shoes, baby, please! Fuck, where are your slides--no, don't move, I'll get them--"
- Said gently, as a question, on days when he perhaps stays in bed longer than can be justified by sleepiness.
- "Hey, baby," said some mornings when Ilya comes downstairs dressed for the day and Shane really likes his outfit. Usually an indication that Ilya will not be wearing those clothes for very long.
- In bed less often than you'd think. Really a vanilla sex only thing, because being called baby can sometimes bring Ilya out of it when he's really in the groove. But Shane will lose it a little sometimes, when Ilya says, "Tell me you like it," and Shane says, "Yes baby fuck fuck I like it fuck please don't stop fuck baby please let me cum" and that's. Very good. Obviously.
- Said with a very particular warning lilt and only AFTER Shane has already said, "Ilya." and then, "Rozanov." In the same tone. This is actually one of only two circumstances where the very elusive 'babe' comes into play. If Shane REALLY wants Ilya to stop whatever he's doing or saying, it's a hand around the wrist and the word, "Babe," quiet but firm. And it does shut Ilya up approximately 100% of the time.
- Other instance of 'babe': Any sort of crowd. 'Ilya' is three syllables (Because Shane...pronounces it a bit wrong.) and unique enough that Shane sometimes worries about drawing attention. 'Babe' is one syllable and can be barked above the crowd in the Captain Hollander voice loud enough that Ilya will have no choice but to hear him if he's within the surrounding 500 feet. They have Marco-Polo'd themselves back to each other with 'BABE' and 'SHANE' multiple times in multiple countries.
- One time someone accidently brings several bottles of fortified wine to the barbecue. It's quite high proof for wine and several people get tipsier than normal, including Shane. Halfway through the evening he puts his head on Ilya's shoulder and plays with his fingers and murmurs, "My baby," into the seam of his shirt and Ilya, looking down at him so fondly, says, "Yes. Yours. Drink some water for me, sweetheart."
- "YES BABY." Yelled directly in Ilya's face during goal cellies. Obviously. This is also the first thing Ilya hears when the ringing in his ears stops after he scores the game-winning goal in overtime in game seven of the Stanley Cup finals. Knees on the ice, sobbing, screaming, laughing, and his husband barrels towards him at damn near light speed, tackles him, skids onto his knees and sends them sliding along the ice together, knocks Ilya's helmet off and puts his hands on his face and yells Yes baby! Fuck yes, baby! We did it!
fic prompt/kink.. ilya cumming prematurely, like he's barely in there and can't help it
I gotchu baby here u go
—
“Remember That Time…?”
or A Hollanov Ficlet Ilya Would Like to Forget
rating: (mild) e | wc: ~1200 | tags: momentary anal, premature ejaculation, boys missing each other, Shane teasing by initiating dirty talk??? more likely than u think
—
Back then, Ilya had thought that their seven-year-long situationship was the most agonizing romantic trial he would be asked to endure by a higher power.
Then, it was the years driving between Montreal and Ottawa, constantly missing his boyfriend and aching in his chest when he wasn’t holding him.
But those two periods…those two periods had nothing on this.
What was supposed to be a three-day trip to finalize a couple big name brand deals turned into a week-long mess in Los Angeles. Shane was calling every day, but his parents were staying in the hotel room next door, so volume level was a difficulty.
Ilya hasn’t been without Shane for this long since they moved in together in Ottawa. Long ago, a week would be child’s play to them. Hell, even in the commuting days, Ilya would have gladly taken a week. Now Ilya is spoiled, addicted, unmoored without his husband to hold. The cottage is empty, echoey, barren without his moans and laughs and chirps. He knows better than to sulk, so he does his best to keep busy, playing with and walking Anya, kayaking or swimming, jogging, running drills on their practice rink, playing video games, anything to keep his mind off of how desperately he misses his beautiful, stable rock.
“One more day, babe. I promise, I will be sprinting into your arms.”
“We will need a bullet train to our bed if you want me to wait more than five minutes before getting my mouth on you without putting on a show,” Ilya says, his head lulling against the back of couch.
“You can wait two hours.”
“Alone in a car with you? The hell I can.”
“Parents will also be there.”
“No they will not. I will pay for Uber.”
“You’re insatiable,” Shane laughs into his phone, and he sounds all soft and sleepy. It makes Ilya’s dick jump in his sweats.
“Let me see you.”
“No, Ilya. As soon as that screen turns on, I know you’re going to be jacking off, and my parents are very much still awake.”
Ilya scoffs, affronted. “Shane Hollander. You think so little of me.”
“Oh, I think a lot of you, Rozanov,” Shane purrs, his voice shifting deeper and more sensual, and goosebumps erupt over Ilya’s skin. “There’s a lot of you to think of, isn’t there?”
Ilya blows out a long stream of air through his lips. “Not fucking fair. You just said.”
“I know,” Shane says, and Ilya hears the smirk in his voice. “I just like to fuck with you.”
Ilya grinds his teeth and drags his hand down the length of his very hard cock. “Turn on the fucking camera and I’ll show you just how I like to fuck with you.”
“Nice try, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”
“You are the devil.”
“You think that now, wait until you see how naughty I’m going to be for you when we’re home,” Shane says silkily. “Goodnight, Ilya.”
He knows Ilya too well by now. He hangs up before Ilya can argue, try to curry favor with Shane’s cock tonight. Ilya groans and resigns himself to his own hand, picturing exactly what he wants Shane to do to him tomorrow night.
—
Ilya caves, giving Shane’s parents a ride to their own cottage, but he doesn’t budge on having Shane in the passenger seat. They don’t argue, both willing to doze off in the back after a grueling week. Ilya’s hand doesn’t let go of Shane’s the entire drive. They both hug and kiss Yuna and David as Ilya drops them off. The closer they get to their own cottage, the harder Ilya squeezes his hand. He eventually takes their clasped hands and begins to grind them against Shane’s cock as he drives.
“Ilya…” Shane sighs, but it’s not bold enough to prompt him to stop. Shane’s head falls back against the head rest, scooting his hips out slightly to ease the angle. “Fuck, I fucking missed you.”
“You have no fucking idea,” Ilya says, voice edging into a growl as he grinds harder.
The SUV screeches to a halt in front of the cottage, and they’re out the door. Ilya is vacuum sealed to Shane’s back as he futzes with his keys, unlocking the door and tumbling inside, Anya barking and nipping at their heels. Shane gives her the quickest greeting possible and Ilya kisses her on the head and instructs her to sit and stay. They trip over each other into the bedroom, stripping clothes off as they go, both entirely naked by the time they slam the door shut and reach the bed.
“Fuck me,” Shane moans into his mouth, already stroking Ilya’s cock, and he feels like he could come just from this if he kept pulling at him for more than thirty seconds. “I need that big cock so bad, baby. Need it pounding inside me, please,” he begs, growing more desperate as seconds pass.
“I’ll give it to you, filthy boy. Gonna give it to you so fucking hard you can’t breath for it, huh? Fuck you up to your fucking stomach. Up to your fucking throat. Christ, I missed you,” he rumbles, already working slick fingers into him carelessly, messily, opening him up as quickly as possible. Ilya’s cock is pulsing on its own, and it feels precarious at best. If he had a single ounce of patience, he would dig out a cock ring, but he cannot bring himself to give a fuck. The only thing he wants on his dick is Shane. No toys, no condoms, just Shane’s hole gripping around him like a fist until he spills inside.
“Put it in, put it in, fuck,” Shane groans, boosting his ass into the air for him.
“Fuck, fuck, okay,” Ilya says, pulling his fingers free and lining up his cock. He shoves the tip inside, and he feels his stomach clench with how overwhelming the sensation is to have his husband wrapped around him again.
Shane whines, wriggling back onto him, forcing him deeper already, and Ilya is holding his breath as he makes small thrusts to sink inside him.
“Fuck, Shane, don’t-”
“Come the fuck on, baby,” Shane growls, and throws himself back onto his cock in one swift move, taking Ilya down to the base. All at once, the friction on his cock is too much, and he feels his stomach clench again and his balls pulsating, and Ilya gasps, digging his nails into Shane’s hips. He fully whimpers as the unthinkable happens.
His forehead drops between Shane’s shoulder blades, quiet as a church mouse as he reconciles what just transpired.
“Did…did you just…?”
“Shut up.”
“Oh my god,” Shane says quietly.
“It has been long time, okay!”
“No, it’s okay, it’s okay!” Shane assures, reaching back and grabbing Ilya’s hand. “It happens. Not a big deal.”
“Fuck,” Ilya groans, collapsing against Shane’s back and forcing him down onto his stomach. “I’m staying inside until I’m hard again.”
Shane cranes his head around, raising an eyebrow. “You’re gonna make me wait until you’re ready again? I don’t think so baby.”
Ilya moans in embarrassment, kissing Shane’s neck to distract himself.
“Come on, quick shot,” Shane jabs lightheartedly. “I bet if you let me fuck your mouth you’ll be good as new. What do you think?”
Shane is on his back with Ilya’s face between his legs before he even thinks of a proper response.
dededos
origamiaround
snowghoul
romaincrisis
izzy806
discoholicmusic
theartofmadeline
