#shosunday

[hutsonwoolyums]

Ilya loves taking Shane’s cock deep in his throat, so deep his nose is pressed against Shane’s skin, and Shane’s chest is heaving and his hands are tight in Ilya’s curls, and Ilya’s hands are everywhere, grabbing Shane’s ass and thighs and chest, and Ilya is groaning softly as he works up a rhythm that has Shane trembling and spilling into his mouth, and Ilya is swallowing it all down and pressing a desperate hand to his own cock, so hard in his shorts.

[withoutaplease]

Ilya throws his head back, sinking deep in the pile of pillows, and if he could melt right into the mattress, he would.  Shane’s lounging on his belly down between Ilya’s legs, giving him the world’s molasses-slowest blow job.  

“Fuck,” he breathes, and his thigh shakes.

Ilya looks down at Shane looking up at him, staring with dark glassy eyes. The corners of his puffy pink lips quirk up from where they’re wrapped around the head of Ilya’s cock.  He pulls off and nudges him with his nose, content and unhurried while Ilya squirms before him.

“Shane,” Ilya says, half-request and half-warning, and Shane grins at him before he takes him in his mouth again.  He’s soft lips and light, unhurried lapping, and Ilya wants to just grab his face and fuck it.  He weaves one hand down into Shane’s hair instead, and braces the other on the headboard.  His hips buck up on their own a little anyway, and he bumps against the back of Shane’s throat.  Shane moans, and he absorbs the vibration.  

“Shane,” he repeats with more urgency, and Shane pulls off with his shiny, sinful smile again.  Ilya huffs, and it sounds like he's whining. 

“You wanna come?” Shane asks, and No I want to throw you over the back of the bed and fuck you, make you feel as ruined wrecked obliterated as you’re making me.  I want to hear you keening like a starving, desperate animal.  Then I want to come.

“Yes,” he grits, instead of all that.  And still, Shane takes his time, rubs Ilya’s twitching, spit-slick cock against his cheek, until Ilya grunts and pleads, “For fuck’s sake, Shane.”

And finally, finally Shane gives it to him, gives him pressure and suction and fast wet heat.  He comes groaning with Shane’s nose buried in his curly hair, so hard he still sees stars when he opens his eyes again.  

Shane cleans his mouth with the back of his hand, and comes up to lay beside Ilya, flushed and smirking with self-satisfaction.  Ilya can’t wait to wipe it off his face.  He’ll make it torture, endless, agony and bliss.  Just as soon as he can feel his legs again.

--

@hutsonwoolyums lil smth for sho sunday <3

[bea-goldfish]

Suck Him Off Sunday

Thanks to @hutsonwoolyums who started this whole shebang. I honestly don’t know where this came from. I woke up feeling Inspired today?? Enjoy, all.

~~~~

Shane loves the end of summer at the cottage.

Most people would assume, quite reasonably, that he prefers the beginning. It makes sense — those weeks ahead of no obligations stretched out before him, the quiet solitude after months of hard work — but that’s more of Ilya’s mindset. Shane tends to spend the beginning of summer still keyed up, still tense, still restless. Ilya works hard to make him lighten up, to make him laugh, to make his body yield to touch and surrender.

It pays off, of course.

It’s nearly August when Shane finally feels the last of his restraint unwind. This is his favorite part, he thinks — the lazy afternoons, when the sun is high and it glistens off the surface off the lake, when he can simply lounge on the couch and not worry about training or diet or when Ilya is going to let him come next. He’s worked hard all year, worked hard all summer, and now all he has to do is watch TV and wait for training camp to begin.

Shane flips through a few channels until he lands on an F1 race. He’s not terribly interested in cars, but Ilya is, and he’s happy to concede to his boyfriend for now.

“This okay?” he asks, running a hand through Ilya’s curls. They’re tangled today, probably from their early morning swim; Shane carefully eases his fingers through the knots. “Volume loud enough?”

Ilya hums around Shane’s cock, eyes fluttering open as he sighs.

Shane doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

It’s a good thing that the documentary on his cabin was filmed long before he had Ilya here, because Shane doesn’t know how he’d have been able to procure an answer for “the best view” besides this. Ilya’s cheeks are flushed and hot, and his pupils are blown wide as he cranes his neck to look up at Shane, his tongue gently lathing at the underside of Shane’s dick. Shane isn’t fully hard yet, the wet warmth surrounding him more comforting than arousing, but he can feel Ilya’s erection pressed against his leg.

Shane gently presses down on the back of Ilya’s head, pulling him down further on his cock, trying not to thrust into the heat. He’s barely paying attention to the race on the television, but he sees Ilya’s attention try to shift whenever the commentator announces a driver or a time, and that simply won’t do. Ilya’s boxers are soaked through already, his cock practically begging to be touched, but Shane has been so good so far; it would be a shame to let that go now.

Shane has cockwarmed many times before, but he’d never anticipated Ilya being interested himself until the beginning of this summer. He hadn’t understood it then; Ilya had never enjoyed being used in the same way as Shane, had never expressed a desire to serve.

“I could stay here,” Ilya had said anyway, sat back on his heels between Shane’s legs, his eyes wide and hungry as his hands moved reverently over Shane’s inner thighs. It felt nice; he was sore from a hard workout, tired from his first week of summer bulking. “I could help you relax.”

Truthfully, Shane hadn’t been sure about the proposal. Of course, Ilya has always sucked cock like a fucking expert, and Shane’s never had any complaints about coming down his throat, but to just sit and receive? To hold himself still and let go of temptation? He’d been half a second from sliding off the couch and offering to swap places instead when Ilya had closed his lips around the tip of his cock and Shane let himself sink into the pleasure.

That had been June, during the NHL Awards, a rare summer when neither of them had been invited, or maybe they’d both declined — Shane doesn’t know it if matters.

It had been difficult that first time, to just sit and let his mind wander, to focus on sensation instead of suction, but Ilya had been sweet, and he hadn’t complained at all when Shane only lasted to the first commercial break before fucking into his mouth, gasping and begging for more, more, please, Ilya, give me something.

By now, Shane understands it better. He can relax, can take what Ilya gives him, can wait hours if that’s what Ilya wants — and that is what Ilya wants. He’s not chasing the same floatiness as Shane; he is becoming Shane’s anchor, his weight, tying him down until the buzzing under his skin settles.

Shane settles back, fingertips scratching at the base of Ilya’s head, and tries to focus on the race in spite of the hot breath condensing on the crease of his thigh. Last time, Shane had put on a dumb movie and forgot to pay attention, only for Ilya to pester him about the plot for the rest of the day. He doesn’t understand much about F1, but he tries to take note of any particular races that seem exciting so he can rewind for them to both watch later.

Shane doesn’t know how much time has passed when Ilya finally, finally starts to suck, starts to work his tongue around Shane’s shaft as the races come to an end. Shane gasps and tilts his head until it thuds against the back of the couch, hard and solid beneath him. Ilya’s got his hands behind his back as he rubs himself against Shane’s leg, the grind delicious and slow, and Shane can’t help tightening his grip on his hair.

“Sound so pretty for me,” he gasps and thrusts shallowly into the heat. He could almost come right now, just from Ilya’s moans enveloping his entire being. “God, Ilya, fuck.”

Ilya doubles down, pushing himself further and further until his nose brushes with Shane’s groin, until his chin, wet with spit and tears, bumps against Shane’s balls, then pulls back again to swirl his tongue around the tip. Shane whimpers when he withdraws, hips jerking uselessly, and he swears that Ilya smirks around his cock before dropping back down.

There’s nothing here but sensation, nothing but Ilya to tether him to the now, nothing but the building heat in his core and the wet suck, nothing but stars in his eyes when he comes down Ilya’s throat.

Ilya holds Shane’s softened cock in his mouth until they both catch their breaths, only pulling back once Shane starts to squirm, oversensitive and needy. He pulls Ilya into his lap and takes his face between his hands, drawing him in for a deep kiss, licking his own spend out until they both taste the same.

Ilya settles his face into the crook of Shane’s shoulder and sighs, contented.

“You’re okay?” Shane asks, almost unnecessarily, as Ilya mouths at his skin. He’s soft now, too; Shane doesn’t know when he came, but they’re both loose and sweaty and sated now. “You need anything?”

Ilya shakes his head, burrowing in even further, and hums. Shane adjusts him slightly, bringing his hands underneath Ilya’s ass to maneuver him into a more comfortable position, then takes the opportunity to stroke his bare back, to trace the dips of his spine.

Eventually, Ilya sighs and lowers himself to the couch, his legs splayed over Shane’s lap as he yawns, stretching his jaw. “Was good?” he asks, a little hoarse in a way that sends sparks down Shane’s spine again. He’s smirking, smug, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He knows it was good. It always is with Ilya. “Want to go again?”

He honestly could go again, but it’s getting late, and they only have so many more sunsets here before they’re called back to their real lives. Part of him wants to point out that it’s time for dinner, that they have chicken marinating in the fridge, that summer will be over soon and they only have so much time.

But… well…

“Sure.” Shane slips off the couch onto his knees, pulls Ilya’s legs down to bracket his head, and grins. “But it’s my turn now.”

[jeffthemagicdragon]

This blessed #shosunday (thank you @hutsonwoolyums for starting this) I am sharing my gospel of Ilya trying to give a blowjob while just completely fuckdrunk. Hear my sermon

Shane is busy with a shoot all day (something A La Peloton, tonally) and Ilya is allowed on set after he promised to be on his best behaviour. But whatever it is has a lot of focus being put on Shane's legs (squat lifts, spin bike, pick your poison) which are also in Teeny Tiny Shorts and Ilya is. Having A Time. Biting his cheek to keep from barking you know how it is.

When they're driving home, Ilya keeps reaching over to squeeze Shane's thighs, and as soon as they're parked Ilya just YANKS him through the front door like You Need To Ride Me NOW Hollander It Is URGENT.

So Shane rides him into the mattress like a demon and Ilya is delirious with how good it is and just how fucking strong and delicious his husband's thighs are and he's running his hands all over his quads digging in his fingers and it's so so soooo good that Ilya's brain feels like it melts out of his ears as his whole world goes fuzzy. It's so good, in fact, that between waiting through the whole shoot with no distractions while Shane was focused elsewhere and all the filth Shane is whispering in his ear, Ilya forgets himself and finishes before Shane when he didn't want to, sent over the edge by Shane grabbing his wrists and pinning his hands between his thighs and calves before flexing, squeezing them in place. And Shane is a little surprised but mainly pleased and flattered, helping Ilya ride it out and then starting to stroke himself to completion once Ilya begins to soften inside him, whispering oh wow, guess you just couldn't wait any longer, baby, you got so excited just for me, huh?

But then Ilya, still dizzy and trying to remember how sentences work, pushes at Shane's wrist to stop him, then is pawing at Shane's hip and back like how he does when he rolls Shane over mid-fuck, but he's out of it enough that he can't just toss him down to the mattress like usual, so Shane lets Ilya pull out and follows the motion once he sees what Ilya's aiming for.

Instantly Ilya's is all over Shane, just slowly and blissfully dragging his lips fingers hips over every part of him like a paintbrush on canvas, smiling drunkenly. Shane thinks it's adorable but also he still has a massive hardon and this is just keying him up MORE and driving him crazy.

And so Ilya kisses his way down his chest, if you could call them kisses - he's really just placing his open mouth wherever he can reach, loose limbed and hazy, until he gets to Shane's crotch. He doesn't have the brain power left for any fancy words so instead he just groans out a quiet fuck before swallowing him down as far as he can manage.

Shane is just watching in silent awe as his husband just greedily indulges himself on Shane's dick - and there really is no word for it other than indulgence. It's got none of his usual technique or flair but it's sweet and artless and adoring, and he's humming deep in his chest as he savours Shane's taste in a way that vibrates right through everyone of Shane's bones. He has one arm curled around Shane's thigh in a grounding sort of hug, and the other hand is just resting on his stomach, curled loosely around nothing until Shane grabs it while gasping as Ilya laps clumsily over his slit. When Ilya collects himself enough to deepthroat, he pushes his nose right into Shane's crotch and nuzzles in so so sweetly, sighing around Shane's dick, and that's what finally throws Shane over the edge, clutching tighter onto Ilya's hand as he devolves into a mess of ah, oh, oh fuck, Ilya as Ilya swallows hungrily and thoughtlessly through it all.

Once the last waves have passed him by, he looks down with adoring eyes to see Ilya, head pillowed tenderly against Shane's thigh, eyes heavy and hazy and satisfied and full of so much love.

[observethewalrus]

𝑯𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆!

Nothing makes Shane feel centered quite like sucking Ilya's cock. Some days just holding his soft cock in his mouth is enough to make him float. He could lose hours that way if Ilya would sit still for long enough, on his knees with his head resting against Ilya's thigh, not sucking or trying to get either of them off, just focusing on the weight of it, the silky texture, the feeling of being close to his husband, his mind drifts so easily. He might get hard at some point, he doesn't really notice it until Ilya points out that his hips have started twitching. Ilya can feel the wet spot that's formed on the front of Shane's pants rubbing against his calf. Shane doesn't even realize he's doing it. Sometimes neither of them will move to escalate, content to stay in this intimate little bubble they've built around themselves. Other times Ilya will shift his leg against Shane's crotch, encouraging him to keep rutting his leaking cock against him. Inevitably Ilya will harden in Shane's mouth, forcing him to take it deeper into his throat. Ilya would keep Shane's head still, he doesn't need Shane to move, he knows Shane likes just holding him inside his mouth, so he keeps him there while Shane humps away at his leg, suspended in subspace, their arousal thickening the air around them. Shane could come like this but that's not the goal, he's content to keep chasing this sensation, the pressure against his cock and the fullness in his mouth. It feels so good, he's not ready for it to end yet, and Ilya is so nicely letting him have this, letting him have what he needs, keeping him safe while he floats...

thanks @hutsonwoolyums for giving me an excuse to think about hollanov cockwarming :)

[gloryhollanovjah]

Dipping my feet in @hutsonwoolyums' #shosunday sandbox...

~

They have practice later this afternoon, but for now they're enjoying laying out in their chairs by the hotel pool in LA. It's early summer, hot but not sticky, and they're soaking up that good ol' Southern California sunshine. Ilya had collapsed into his chair after chicken fighting with some of the other Cens in the pool and dozed off shortly thereafter, and Shane's been catching up on his reading, his fingers of one hand loosely tangled with Ilya's, their hands dangling between their chairs.

Eventually Ilya stirs and stretches, sitting up. He squints over at Shane. "Going to get something from the snack bar. Want anything?"

"Mmm, no, I'm good. Thanks, though."

A few minutes later, Ilya comes back, looking far too delighted with himself.

Shane pulls his sunglasses off, hating the cliche move, but he needs fully unobstructed vision for this. "What is that?"

Ilya smirks, licking a long line up the frozen popsicle, his tongue leaving a dark wet line in the crystals, before sucking quickly at the top, his cheeks hollowing out. "Is called a popsicle, yes? We do not have these in Russia." Another lick, this time on the other side, as he holds eye contact with Shane. "Mmmm, delicious."

Shane inhales sharply through his nose as he watches Ilya suck the popsicle further into his mouth, lips stretching around it and eyelashes fluttering. It's cherry or watermelon or something like that and the sticky sweet juice is dying Ilya's plush lips red, leaving a little ring around his mouth.

Ilya comes off the popsicle again, using his tongue to lap up the droplets now running down the sides as it starts to melt in the warm sun. "Do you like popsicles, Shane?" he asks conversationally. He sucks again at the popsicle as he watches Shane with dark eyes, this time pushing it in and out of his mouth slowly, twisting as he goes.

Shane puts down his book. Picks it back up again. "I, uh. Think I need to use the bathroom." He stands up, book held not-so-casually in front of him as he quickly strides to the single-person bathroom just off the pool area.

Ilya doesn't finish the popsicle.

He does, however, finish Shane off in the bathroom a few minutes later.

[ismickeyadopted]

Take me like you do in your dreams

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types Rating: Explicit  Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Relationships: Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Ilya Rozanov, Lily Rozanova/Jane Hollander  Characters: Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Hayden Pike, Lily Rozanova, Jane Hollander (Heated Rivalry)  Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Hollanova, Gender Swapped Heated Rivalry, Lesbian Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Strap-Ons, Finger Sucking, Teasing, First Time, Possessive Behavior, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Alternate Universe - College/University 

“Good date?” Lily asks mockingly.

Jane tenses. Without turning around, she mutters, “The best.”

“Tell me everything!” Lily claps and jumps up from the bed. “Tell me how good he made you feel.”

Jane turns around, her eyes flashing with anger. Then she sees what Lily is wearing and a deep blush settles over her skin. Jane looks about two feet to the right of her when she finally speaks. “I never should’ve told you that.”

“Mmm,” Lily crosses her arms and faux pouts. “But you did. Now tell me, did you at least cum this time?”

Jane grows more flushed at her brash words. “I’m not telling you that,” she snaps.

Lily shrugs. “So you still didn't cum. What is the point of him, then?”

Jane Hollander can't figure out what isn't working with her boyfriend, Hayden. Her teammate, Lily Rozanova, is happy to help her figure it out.

[hutsonwoolyums]

Ilya’s been sucking Shane’s cock for what feels like hours, working his mouth in that perfect rhythm that gets Shane’s thighs clenching tight around his ears and his head rolling back against the pillow, and Shane is begging, “Ilya, fuck, Ilya I need to cum, I need to cum now, I can’t—” but Ilya just shakes his head, pulls off for just a minute to let Shane breathe and say, “no moy lyubimyy, I’m not finished with you yet.” And as Ilya sucks yet another kiss into Shane’s thigh that’s littered with hickeys, Shane has to try bargaining, “I’ll—I’ll get hard again. If you keep sucking me I’ll get hard again and you won’t have to stop.”