Alex Warren‘s new song ‘the more you miss’ was leaked on TikTok & it immediately made me think of Ilya and thoughts he probably has about his mother, especially as he’s gone through major life changes.
JUST LOOK AT THE LYRICS ⬇️⬇️⬇️
Getting drafted #1!, winning his first Stanley Cup, falling in love, getting married, having a child…. Ugh
Season 2 HR edits will be absolutely devastating!!!
shane riding it crazy style in a backwards baseball hat is like level up of white crew socks as lingerie. i think it would give ilya a nosebleed
no bc shane bouncing and moaning on it in just the white crew socks and backwards baseball hat and maybe his smartwatch notifying him he's hit his cardio goal for the day would give me a nosebleed too
Ilya and Shane have 4 kids. 3 girls and 1 boy over 8 years. Their girls come one right after another, giving Hayden and Jackie a run for their money in consecutive pregnancies. A fact which Hayden never fails to remind Ilya about as often as he can.
Their baby boy takes his sweet time to begin his journey, so much so, Shane had been almost certain they were done having children after their youngest (at the time) turned 5 and had started kindergarten the month before. They hadn’t been actively preventing nor were really trying for a child, but with his history of high fertility after stopping his birth control 9 years ago and then having 3 subsequent pregnancies somewhat close together, he’d figured that was it. They had 3 beautiful, healthy children and couldn’t ask for more.
Until a week before Christmas when Shane had assumed he was just run down and sleep deprived. Too much sugar and carbs in his diet lately during the holidays, 3 small children to parent and to top it off he had probably caught a bug. Probably from his offspring. They were constantly bringing home germs from school, that was a fact. Their adorable little walking petri dishes.
There wasn’t enough disinfectant in all of Canada that could appease him into believing their home wasn’t crawling with bacteria from his extremely social children who were definitely transporting the organisms from room to room on the daily.
It was only after he’d been feeling fatigued and nauseous every day for more than a week, his sense of smell was thrown into overdrive and his pants were getting a little too snug around his waist that he suspected there was more going on than just a simple cold.
Two pink lines and a digital read out of the word ‘pregnant’ sealed the deal.
Ilya about fainted when he was given a late Boxing Day ‘gift’ with one of the positive pregnancy tests laid against a soft yellow newborn onesie inside the rectangular box with a handwritten note that said ‘coming soon’.
After their close friends and family were told, Ilya posted a picture of his gift to his instagram, the post earning almost 1/2 million likes in 24 hours with the official Centaurs page and their friends sharing the post to their pages with many well wishes.
Shane was 24 weeks when they found out they were having a boy. The baby would absolutely not turn around so they could find out at his 20 week scan and were told they would check again at his next appointment.
Not counting the first six to eight weeks of exhaustion and nausea, each of Shane’s pregnancies had been a dream, at least compared to the struggles his friends had described with their own pregnancies.
At 42 years old Shane was used to having to be seen every 4 weeks due to his age while pregnant. After Vika, who came wailing into the world on a brisk spring morning in March when Shane was just shy of his 35th birthday, he was considered “advanced paternal age” with Alina and Sasha. Which was annoying but whatever.
So despite having near textbook perfect pregnancies without any complications, he was still seen every 4 weeks without fail, every time.
At his 40 week scan they were told “any day now.”
The baby had turned over 2 weeks ago and was head down in position, but he was a day past 41 weeks now and more talks of an induction were brought up at the office.
They had left his appointment with a scheduled induction date when Shane finally woke that night with the familiar dull ache low in his back, increased pressure against his pelvis and the mild pinch of a contraction across his abdomen…that could only mean one thing.
Yuna and David arrived to watch the girls in the late afternoon after Shane’s contractions were about 5 mins apart and he could no longer talk or walk through them.
Ilya had set their bag down in the spacious hospital room and helped Shane into his birthing gown. Shane had bought the garment after spending hours and hours of research online after finding out he was pregnant with Vika and had worn it every-time since and sometimes even for a the first few weeks at home for comfort and ease when caring for a newborn. The fabric had remained soft and felt soothing against his skin even after dozens of washes and through years of time.
Shane had only labored for a handful more of hours after arriving at the hospital. He was gritting his teeth, sweating profusely and had spent the last hour nearly breaking all of the fingers in Ilya’s left hand, before he was given go ahead to start giving small pushes but Shane was already exhausted.
He had started to wane after 30 mins of straining and his pushes were getting weaker, their son’s heart rate began fluctuating with mild concern.
Shane’s doctor had stated they might be looking at having to do a c-section if things didn’t stabilize soon, to which Shane immediately balked at the mere mention of the surgery. He had never needed one to bring his children into the world before. He was going to dig deep and give it his all, promising the doctor he was good.
He had agreed to the procedure if the medical team saw fit, if his baby or himself was in anymore distress, but Shane was not giving up yet.
Ilya met his husband’s eyes and saw in them what he had seen regularly on and off the ice for the last 25 years. Raw determination & fierce willpower.
15 mins later their son slid home free from Shane’s body. The silent newborn was immediately laid on Shane’s exposed chest with a nurse rubbing his tiny back vigorously with a towel, suctioning his nose and mouth.
The men held their breath for the longest 20 seconds of their lives before a soft hiccup was heard followed by a loud scream.
Ilya nearly collapsed to the ground in relief at the piercing cry. Shane brought a trembling hand up and brushed the baby’s flushed cheek, shushing him gently, the after birth rush of hormones making his body shake and teeth chatter.
Their family was complete. They both knew it.
Shane had never felt more fulfilled in his life than at that moment. Which was a crazy thing to say as he was the husband of Ilya Rozanov, the birth father to their 3 beautiful daughters (and now son), not to mention he was a 5 time Stanley cup winner, hello?!
Shane cupped his infant sons head lightly while his life flashed behind his closed eyes, like a movie on 32x speed, every moment that had led him to the ‘right now’, was cherished and he silently thanked the universe for helping him get there.
Ilya leaned over the bed and bussed his lips softly against Shane’s sweaty forehead and then pressed a firmer kiss to his exhausted husband’s lips, each of them with tears steadily falling down their cheeks. He brushed his finger gently across his son’s tiny hand, still marveling at the infant reflex to grip his finger tightly.
Ilya had a few regrets in his life, decisions he’d made out of spite, words he’d said in anger that he was not proud of and moments he had wished so hard he could have a do-over for. But reaching out to shake the preoffered hand of a clearly nervous, awkward and painfully earnest (see: boring), 17 year old Canadian hockey player with cheeks full of the most beautiful freckles he’d ever seen, on a bitterly cold and bleak afternoon outside an ice rink in the middle of nowhere Saskatchewan two days before Christmas….would never, ever be one of them.
I was supposed to post this yesterday but got very drunk instead, happy Easter I guess? But this is for Make it Sexy (For BuckTommy) March Day Seven: Cock Slut (alternate prompt). It takes place like twenty minutes after the end of the first chapter and contains porn and some feelings. You can read it on AO3 here, and it's also here, too:
There's something in Buck’s brain that got rewired when Tommy fucked him for the first time. It's not the first time he'd been penetrated, because Natalia had toys and a more adventurous spirit than you'd expect from a sweetheart death doula. He'd bought some stuff after they broke up to use, but it was a whole thing to use them and he wasn't always in the mood and his hand or wrist would cramp.
Then Tommy came into his life. He carefully and patiently helped him learn stuff like better relaxation and the many steps that could be taken to make cleaning less of a hassle every time.
And then he turned Buck into a fucking greedy slut who needs dick whenever he can get it.
And then he'd left.
Twice.
Now that his sex drive is mostly back, Buck is jerking off like a teenager again, but he's fucking suffering for it. He keeps ending up in bed with his leg pulled back while he fucks himself with a dildo until he's overstimulated and twitching, and then he calls out for Tommy and Tommy isn't there. So it's not his fault that he'd been so strung out on remembering Tommy that he'd accidentally said something that Siri interpreted as “call Tommy.”
Buck gets to the front door before Tommy even has a chance to knock, having heard his truck pull up, and answering the door in a towel with a hard-on is probably risky. But Tommy walks in and kisses him, kicking the door shut behind him and yanking the towel away. He's wearing sweats and a hoodie, and Buck reaches for the zipper and realizes it's just the hoodie. Dipping a hand under the waistband of his sweats reveals that it's just sweats, too.
Tommy kicks his slides off and steps out of the sweats as Buck pushes the hoodie off, and then they're naked and pressed up against each other in his living room.
“C'mon,” Buck urges, walking them back toward his room.
He laughs softly when Tommy keeps kissing his jaw and neck and groping his ass and pecs and waist. He missed how hungry Tommy gets for him. It's one of the few times in his life where Buck felt like someone matched his level of want.
“You ready for me already?” Tommy murmurs as he bullies Buck onto the bed. His fingers dip between Buck’s cheeks, and his eyebrows jump a little when they reach the base of his plug. “Guess that answers that question.”
“I really want you to fuck me,” Buck says, and Tommy kisses him long and deep before nudging him up the bed. Buck grabs the condom and the lube and hands them to Tommy. “So don't worry about foreplay. I know you like it, but—”
“I'll live,” Tommy says, tearing open the condom. “Get that out of yourself.”
Buck pulls his leg back and props his other foot on Tommy's shoulder, reaching between his legs to grab the base of the plug. He shudders as he works it out, his hole fighting the loss until the plug starts to taper down. He drops it on his nightstand right as Tommy pours more lube directly onto his hole before he presses the head of his cock in.
It's a fucking homecoming, is what it is. Nothing feels more right than Tommy’s cock sinking into him and stretching him open. Buck hasn't had bad hookups or dates since they broke up, but it wasn't this.
He hooks a leg over Tommy's shoulder and digs his heel in until Tommy bends and kisses him, and Buck shivers and moans when Tommy drives into him harder.
“That what you needed?” Tommy murmurs, and Buck nods, letting noises get fucked straight out of his chest instead of holding them back. “Fuck, sweetheart, listen to you.”
His hand curls under Buck’s chin and squeezes gently until Buck’s mouth opens more, the noises getting a little louder.
“Y-your fucking dick, Daddy,” he whines out, his tongue flicking against Tommy's finger when it rubs across his bottom lip. Tommy follows it with a kiss, licking into Buck’s mouth and grinding into him so it feels like he's just pushing in deeper and deeper.
Buck digs into every part of Tommy he can, pulling him closer until they're all but fused together. He feels drunk with it, his tongue heavy against Tommy's and his body going syrupy and slow, rocking to feel the friction and stretch from Tommy's cock.
Tommy readjusts Buck's legs so they're hooked over his hips, pushing them open and fucking into him, lifting away a little for leverage. His eyes keep going from between them to Buck’s face like he's checking in. When Buck nods, Tommy ducks his head and chuckles before straightening up and fucking into him hard, fast, and steady. When Buck tries to reach for his cock, Tommy takes his hand and pushes it into the mattress.
The whine he lets out makes Tommy grin just before he tilts his hips back and fucks into Buck just right.
“You used to get so close just like this,” Tommy says roughly. “Wanna see if you still can.”
Buck nods too fast and sparkles show up in his vision and his teeth click together a little hard, but he just rocks himself onto Tommy's cock as best he can. His lashes flutter a little at the stretch, the way he's making Buck feel like there's a fire blazing straight through the middle of him. He's had good dick since they broke up, but nothing like this, nothing like Daddy.
“Good boy,” Tommy praises, pressing a hand to Buck’s belly and another to his inner thigh, bracing himself as he pounds into him.
With his hand freed, Buck reaches down and holds himself open so he can get more of Tommy, and Tommy swears and looks down, watching himself move in and out of Buck's body like he's in a trance. When Buck clenches a little harder as he pulls back, Tommy's fingertips dig into his skin and he drops his chin to his chest, swearing again.
“Baby, you can't do that if you want me to last,” Tommy warns with a laugh. When he looks at Buck, he looks so fond that the head flutters in Buck’s chest for a moment.
“Do what?” he asks innocently to keep himself from saying anything dumb.
So Tommy pulls out, and Buck is ready to cry and beg him not to stop, but Tommy flips him onto his stomach, pulls his hips back, and fucks into him so hard that Buck ends up with his face smashed into his bed. He doesn't try to push himself up, he just braces an arm against the bed and grabs the blanket with his fingers and takes it.
Time gets syrupy and slow and hazy, the air feels heavy with it, and Buck pants and drools against his bed while Tommy ruins him. When Tommy pulls out again, he whines and looks over his shoulder, and Tommy is grabbing another condom.
“Broke,” he says, tossing the other one aside.
And Buck hates that any amount of time has passed since they were together last, because he's due for a test this week or next. He doesn't know if Tommy is. And he misses feeling him bare and slick and huge inside. Tommy's eyes flick to his, and he sees a glimpse of that same regret.
He wants to promise next time, but he doesn't know if there is next time or even ever again.
He presses his cheek to the bed and lets himself enjoy the feeling of Tommy pressing back in, shuddering when Tommy pulls all the way out again and rubs a thumb over his hole before pushing all the way in until his pelvis is against Buck’s ass. An arm scoops under him and grabs his pec as Tommy drapes himself over Buck and drags his tongue over his spine.
“You want it?” he asks, kissing the back of Buck’s shoulder as he grinds in a lazy circle.
Buck grinds back against him and gasps in a lungful of air. “Please. Fuck me, I—”
Tommy chuckles and gives him a tight, hard thrust. “Baby, I wanted to know if you wanted to cum. But you just want dick, don't you?”
“Yes,” he all but sobs out, rolling his hips back. “God, fuck, j-just—”
“I got you,” Tommy soothes, fucking into him in longer strokes without pulling away from Buck’s back. “I know you need it, honey, don't worry.”
And that hits something unexpected inside Buck, and he feels his eyes burn. It's not shame or anything like that, but he knows that Tommy knows. And Tommy's giving him what he needs.
“D-daddy,” he chokes out, feeling tears well up.
“Let Daddy take care of you, baby.” Tommy peppers kisses along his upper back and sinks all of his weight onto Buck, fucking him in long, slow, grinding thrusts. “There we go, you feel all that?”
Buck pants and nods and spreads his knees for Tommy. When he turns his head, Tommy's there to lick into his mouth and squeeze his chest and stomach, his weight pushing down on Buck. He lets out a pathetic whimper when Tommy starts to pull his face away, and Tommy moves back in to keep kissing him. When he speeds his thrusts back up, he breaks the kiss but presses his nose and mouth to Buck’s cheek.
“‘M gonna cum,” Buck whines, wishing he could hold it back but he can't anymore.
“It’s okay, let it happen, you've been so good for me,” Tommy murmurs, shifting his weight just enough to get his hand under Buck and squeeze his cock as he fucks him.
It's the words more than the stimulation that gets him over the edge. Buck cries out long and loud through his orgasm, and Tommy buries his face in his neck and fucks him through it. When Buck reaches back blindly to curl around the back of Tommy's head, he arches his back and shudders with oversensitivity.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Tommy groans, rocking into him.
Buck normally would've been begging Tommy to fill him up, but he can't and he hates it. Even as much as he loves all of this, that one thing is like a knife in him.
Tommy drags his mouth to Buck’s ear. “Gonna mark you.”
Before he can ask what Tommy means, Tommy's pulling out and there's the sound of a condom being ripped off. He looks over his shoulder and arches his ass up as Tommy strokes himself, his eyes locked on Buck’s.
“Right here,” Buck begs, reaching back to hold himself open.
When Tommy cums, it hits Buck’s ass and the back of his balls, and he wants to be greedy and push it inside himself. He contents himself with rubbing it into his skin while Tommy disappears and comes back with his towel.
They clean up, and Tommy's kneeling on the bed when Buck rolls onto his back. When Buck reaches a hand out, Tommy takes it and lays next to him.
“Can you stay?” Buck asks softly.
“I probably shouldn't, right?” Tommy replies, but his nose is pressed to Buck’s shoulder.
Buck lets out a shaky breath and squeezes his eyes shut. “Guess not.”
And then hands are on his cheeks, and Buck feels tears leak from behind his lids as his chin wobbles. It's like he feels Tommy slip through his fingers every fucking time, and it never stops hurting. He can't keep doing this to himself, can't let himself want this anymore.
“I want to,” Tommy says, his voice thick.
Buck opens his eyes and feels a weight settle around his diaphragm as more tears roll down his temples. “I miss you.”
Tommy pulls him into a hug and holds on tight. “Fuck, I miss you so much.”
“Can you stay?” he asks again.
“Yeah,” Tommy says, rubbing across his back. “Yeah, I want to stay.”
—
In the morning, Buck wakes up, and Tommy's laying next to him, awake and watching him.
“Hey,” Buck mumbles, smiling and stretching slowly.
“Hey,” Tommy replies, reaching for him and kissing him. “Do you want breakfast?”
Buck wraps his arms around Tommy and feels them sink into each other. “In a bit.”