TGISHOS (THANK GOD IT'S SUCK HIM OFF SUNDAY) 🙌 we're stepping directly into ilya's shoes for this one with some second person pov, mostly because i wanted the reader to have a specific visual of shane in mind as things are happening—the visual ilya would be treated to, up close and personal. perhaps this is a spiritual successor to my post about how unfair it is that ilya gets to fuck The shane hollander whenever he wants. i frequently imagine what it must be like to be so blessed. here is one particular imagining.
tags: blowjobs (obviously), facials, degradation (very light), second person pov, pov ilya rozanov
You're staring down the length of your body at Shane, who is kneeling naked at your feet—his hands behind his back, because that's where you told him to put them; his eyes unmoving from where your cock is nestled in your hand. The swollen tip of it hovers inches away from his pink, parted mouth. You readjust your grip just to see what happens when the head of your cock shifts to the side, and are rewarded by Shane subconsciously mirroring the movement, like a dog tracking its treat. You laugh low. Give yourself one long, unhurried pull.
"You want my cock, Shane?" you say, not really a question. Anyway he nods.
"Yes."
You hum. "How much?"
"So much." You swear he hasn't made eye contact with you since you took your underwear off. It's like when you're naked your cock becomes the window to your soul to him, instead of your eyes, and maybe there's truth to that. There's no hiding the way you harden there at Shane's proximity, no explaining away the precum that leaks in response to Shane's obedience. If he gets it right, he'll know. Shane likes knowing when he gets things right. "Ilya, I want it so much."
"You can be more specific than that," you murmur, and Shane whines.
"I—it's killing me, Ilya. I need you in my mouth now. Please. I'm so ready for you. I want you to fill me u—"
A heavy thwap cuts his pleading off definitively. Shane's eyes are wide and his mouth is frozen open. You can see a shiny smear of precum high on his cheek where you slapped your dick against it. Abruptly, he moans—apparently over his surprise. He's breathing heavily. He swallows, and you wait for him to say what he wants to say.
"Again," he says, in a small voice, and you groan.
"Shlyukha," you say, and swing your cock against his cheek again. This time his mouth falls all the way open at the impact, and seemingly before he can help himself he's turning his face against your cock, rubbing his cheek on it, mouthing along the vein on the underside. He looks absolutely gone. You curve your free hand around the crown of his head and fist your fingers in his hair, then tug him up to where you're throbbing at the head, nudging it against his bottom lip.
"Show me how much you want it, moy lyubimyy," you say.
For how eager he is he still starts with restraint, giving your head open-mouthed kisses, the same he'd give your mouth. You hiss softly at the feeling. His lips sliding soft around the head and his tongue moving almost curiously into the slit—as if he hasn't done this to you a hundred times. It's good, a teaser. But his patience only lasts so long. He pushes down further, and you moan deep in your chest.
"Fuck, like that, lyubimyy." Your hands aren't guiding anymore, just resting—one on the back of his head and the other over a warm, flushed cheek. Concentration pinches the skin between his eyebrows as he fucks your cock into his mouth. "You are so good at taking me. From front and back, hmm?" His rhythm stutters at that, and the moan he lets out vibrates down your entire length. You growl, low, and shunt your hips forwards. He gets the message. Keep going.
"Love your fucking mouth," you murmur. "Fuck. So fucking wet... you are drooling, Shane. So excited for your food? Hm?" He moans again, twice in quick succession, as if to say yes, yes. You laugh, but it's mostly air. "Bet your cock—is just as wet right now. Fuck... If you make a mess—hah—on the floor, you'll have to—clean it up."
Shane moans near-continuously now. Like he's the one getting blown to pieces. But the orgasm is coalescing behind your cock, drawing your balls in. You gasp, and grab Shane by the hair at the back of his head, and pull him off urgently. A delicate string of spit bridges the sudden gap between his bottom lip and your cock. Your fist takes over from his mouth, blurring with the ferocity of the movement, and for the first time since you began Shane looks up at your face. His eyes are sheened with tears. I love the face you make when you're coming, he said once. It's so fucking hot.
But there isn't time for that. "Close your eyes," you grit out, and he does, immediately. Because he's a good boy. The best.
He trembles as your cum paints his face. Some does go over his eye, catching in his lashes. Some lands across and in his gasping mouth. Beautifully, most ends up over his cheeks and his nose. When you're done, you reach a hand out and rub it into his skin, right over his freckles. He hums contentedly. So good.
"Okay," you say, lazily, noting the way his hands are still behind his back—you don't think he moved them for even a second. So, so good. "You can touch yourself now."
reblogs are hugely appreciated!!! thank you for reading x
