Jun 4
fic: american motor over smoldered field pairing: hollanov tags: catfish au
The play is very, very obvious. Ilya has spent most of his life wanting to be away from it, and to do that, you need a lot of money. The man in front of him has a lot of money, and better yet, a deep appreciation for the muscles that make up Ilya’s stomach. Ilya wishes he had the texts in hand, thick, soft pieces to feed back into his frowning mouth. Remember? When you said: I like you so much, and god I feel crazy and Fuck me, fuck me harder, more, god you feel so big, so good. I can feel you—please, you’re going to make me come. Please can I come. Please, Ilya. Always, they beg. Ilya is happier than he thought possible to fit in one body.
read it on ao3