for the prompts, how about docking? like ilya is all "fuck shane need you closer, want you to be a part of me" or whatever
bonus points if its still during situationship era cause I love when they're crazy and possessive over each other and not yet together lmaooo
teeheeeeeee I haven't written docking in like 15 years this is craaazy.
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Close: A Hollanov Ficlet
rating: e | wc: 1.4k | tags: docking, situationship era, no one does it for shane but ilya, that's kinda it | if you don't know what docking is yet...just have fun :)
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Three months was a long fucking time when all Shane could think about was Rozanov’s cock.
Their matchups this season were brutal. So brutal that Shane had been indulging himself — teaching himself, even — in regards to sexting. Learning how to rile Rozanov up just a little, figuring out what exactly Rozanov did to make Shane go feral in the low light of his bedroom at night.
He tried thinking about other men. What it would be like to fuck them. Be fucked by them. Would they hold him down like Rozanov? Would they kiss him like Rozanov? Nibble his lip, slip him their tongue, moan into his mouth like they’ll die if Shane doesn’t suck their cock in the next few seconds?
Or would a woman even be enough? Just to feel a warm, eager mouth around his cock. Shane can close his eyes, imagine for himself what is happening where he can’t see. He’s never been able to come with a woman with his eyes open, but there’s a first time for everything, and maybe the next woman will be the one. Getting a woman into bed would be easy. As easy as entering a bar. They come to him. They proposition him. They whisper how badly they want to get on their knees and worship the cock of the great Shane Hollander, two-time MLH Cup champion.
It would be easier than anything Shane has ever done.
But it’s not what he wants.
He wants the lilt of a Russian accent, the constellation of moles on his stomach that Shane can make love to with his mouth in between moments of having his lips around him. The hand on his head, guiding him where he should go, so gentle and firm that he fears he's become addicted to that sort of stern, coddled direction that only Rozanov knows how to draw out of him.
It’s getting dangerous. Uncharted.
And fuck, he needs Rozanov to pound him senseless the second Shane sees him again. During warmups or at center ice. He wants to be thrown down, stripped from the bottom, hauled in the air and fucked in front of a jeering crowd. Mortifying parents, traumatizing children, ending his career, all for his sick and twisted pleasure of getting Rozanov on him as soon as physically possible.
He won’t. But he wants to.
Shane: You’re the sex expert. What could you do to me that is filthier than what we’ve already done.
He nibbles the side of his thumb as he stares at the text — sext— that he just sent Rozanov, right after the Raiders had won their game against Los Angeles. He’s definitely in the locker room, razzing his teammates, declaring they go out for drinks before their flight to Montreal the next morning.
Finally.
He isn’t alarmed when he gets a quick response. Rozanov is always more than happy to play with Shane, especially when Shane is setting himself up to be played with.
Rozanov: oh Hollander I have a fucking list
Rozanov: And no congrats? 🥺
Shane: 🙄
Shane: I figured coming back to a text like this from me would be congrats enough for you
Rozanov: You are right actually. Thank you.
Rozanov: How about I think about some ideas and I will surprise you tomorrow night when I finally have my mouth on you again.
Shane: Don’t get too drunk tonight. If you're hungover tomorrow it won’t be as fun to beat your ass.
Rozanov: Will be just as fun to to beat into your ass though 😏
Shane wrestles with the smile on his lips, chewing on the skin of his thumb as he decides to leave him hanging and wrap a hand around his cock instead.
—
“You’re already blushing, Hollander. Did you miss me?”
He watches Rozanov’s teeth as the scrape over his lower lip and his eyes look him over like Shane is already laid out beneath him, naked and writhing.
Shane sniffs and glances at the ref poising the puck for the opening face-off. “Not a lot to miss, Rozanov,” he mutters around his guard. “Your play has been sloppy lately.”
Rozanov smirks. “You know a thing or two about it being sloppy, don't you?”
The puck drops. Rozanov didn’t stand a chance, and Shane is halfway down the ice in two seconds.
—
Shane is the master at talking a big game. Hyping himself up, proclaiming he’s going to jump Rozanov’s bones the moment they’re alone.
But when Rozanov slips through the back door, Shane’s body falls against the wall, eyes blazing, studying the man’s tight jeans and half-unbuttoned top. Looking like sex, looking like danger.
Everything Shane wants, and wants him him to inject into Shane.
And again, he lets Rozanov come to him. Embarrassed by his reluctance, but aroused by the prey animal that Rozanov turns him into when he advances on him like this.
Hands are cradling his face, a knee slotted between his thighs, and then a tongue shoved into his mouth for the three months that have passed between them.
“Get upstairs. I have plans,” Rozanov exhales over his lips.
They don’t stop until Rozanov has him on his bed, mutually stripped bare and tasting each other with a hand on the other’s cock.
“Plans. What are the plans,” Shane pants out, shaky and desperate already with Rozanov’s skin on his fingertips.
“Do you trust me?”
“Possibly,” Shane smiles against his lips.
“Do you want to feel me close? Feel me all over?”
“Yes,” Shane breathes.
“Hold your cock for me.”
Shane nibbles his own lip, pressing his forehead against Rozanov’s as his fingers slip from Shane’s cock to hold his own. He does as instructed, jerking softly at his blisteringly hard cock and breathing into Rozanov’s mouth.
“Hold it. Just like that.”
Shane nods against him.
“Okay. Look down.”
Shane glances between them, and they are a hairsbreadth away from being tip to tip, Rozanov’s hand working himself over and watching mesmerized at the slide of his foreskin moving easy over his head. Rozanov spits unceremoniously over both of their cocks. Twice.
“Ready?”
“For what?” Shane asks.
Rozanov smirks, and he presses his foreskin forward in his grip, until it encompasses Shane’s fucking tip.
“What the fuck,” Shane breathes, a choking sound escaping him.
“Just let it happen. Is hot, yes?” He rumbles, capturing Shane’s mouth with his and sharing a moan between them as Rozanov’s firm grip slides up around the foreskin encasing Shane’s tip and jerking him off with the thin layer over him.
Shane can’t quite compute what is happening, but he never wants him to stop. The tautness of his skin is warm and fluid over the head of his cock, and he can feel the heat of Rozanov’s hand through his foreskin.
Shane is inside his cock skin. And Rozanov is jacking him off with it. Jacking them both off at the same time.
“Fuck, you are leaking all over my tip, Hollander,” Rozanov groans within a chuckle. “Is fun for me. Is it fun for you?”
Shane lets out another choked off noise, dipping his forehead into the crook of his neck and beginning to thrust lightly into the heat of his foreskin, his tip smashing against Rozanov’s, brazen and desperate.
Rozanov hisses inward at the contact, but he doesn’t withdraw, just keeps jerking them off inside himself. The force of Shane’s thrust has the head of his cock gliding over the top of Rozanov’s tip, slightly stretching the skin and rocking their tips against each other, and Rozanov gasps raspily at the sensitive friction. “Fuck, Hollander, it’s…” and Rozanov is rarely at a loss for words, but Shane can guess that the head of his cock is just as sensitive as Shane’s is, maybe more with Rozanov doing all the work.
He starts to jerk harder, sliding the slickened skin over both their cocks as Shane wails into his shoulder. “Fuck, Rozanov, I’m gonna fucking come.”
“Yeah? You gonna fucking come for me?” He prompts, voice heavily strained at his own arousal. “You want to come inside me for once?”
Shane winces and squeaks, nodding into Rozanov eagerly and feeling himself releasing all at once into the shared space and exploding over Rozanov’s fingers so embarrassingly quick. “Oh fuck, Rozanov, I’m so fucking sorry,” he grits out.
Rozanov just grits his teeth, his nostrils flaring as he jacks himself off with Shane’s come, following close behind and splattering them both with his spend as well, intermingled inside his cloak of warmth.
Shane lets out a hysterical laugh, half-crazed, pressing his face into Rozanov’s neck. “Rozanov, what the fuck was that?”
Rozanov chuckles in his ear, finally dropping their cocks and watching his foreskin slide back into place. “Is what they call docking. You like?”
“Fuck,” Shane breathes out, and tackles him down onto the bed. “Teach me more weird sexy shit. Please.”
Rozanov laughs fully at that, a twinkle in his eye as he pecks him on the lips. “Do not worry. I have plenty I can teach you.”
the only fic i've ever seen that thoughtfully incorporated elements of real life dog sex into omegaverse was hockey rpf but they were breeding hockey players to produce more hockey players and they were the only ones who did this. people who weren't hockey players just had human sex
lots going on here that I really don't feel qualified to comment on but thank you for sharing it with me. enriching to know this is occurring out there somewhere. baruch hashem who makes the creatures different
Forever consumed by the thought of Ilya refusing to put it in and just jerking off with his leaking tip pressed against Shane’s hole as it flutters around nothing; until he moans, long and drawn out and paints the rim with his cum, pushes the tip in just a tiny bit to force his cum inside. All the while Shane is whimpering and begging like a bitch in heat to get fucked.
a short au idea where shane goes to visit his girlfriend by surprise because he was on a work trip and when he knocks on her door it takes a while to swing open, and when it finally does he’s face to face with a half-naked man he’s never seen before and his girlfriend appears behind him and turns all apologetic and starts crying when she notices shane at the door and starts saying it’s not what it looks like and begging for forgiveness, but shane just stands there barely listening, only having eyes for the guy who’s leaning against the doorframe looking completely unbothered, smirking like he’s actually enjoying the whole scene, and it makes shane so mad, so he pulls his hand away from his ex’s grip, breaks up with her, and leaves. he goes straight to his car but doesn’t turn the engine on, just leans his forehead against the steering wheel and stays there for like fifteen minutes, until he hears someone knock on his window and looks up and it’s the guy, so he rolls the window down and snaps “what do you want?”and the guy goes “i didn’t know she had a boyfriend” and shane’s like “so what?” and the guy, smirking just like before, goes “if i knew she had a boyfriend who looked like you, i would’ve been chasing you instead of her” and shane’s thinking this situation is absurd (and secretly pleased) and just asks “what the fuck is your problem?” and the guy goes “my problem is that i clearly chose the wrong one, now you can help me correct it, right?” and he winks at shane, who just flips him off, rolls up the window, and drives away. later shane is at a bar telling what happened to his friends when someone slides into the booth next to him and it’s the guy and his friend rose goes “shane, this is ilya, he’s the guy i met at the painting class and was telling you that you two would be great friends” and shane is sitting there horrified and speechless while ilya gives him that same satisfied smirk and goes “oh shane, we’re definitely going to be GREAT friends” and now shane is truly fucked
the centaurs 100% believe shane is a top btw. he never corrects them. ilya tries to tell them all the time but they never believe him. they’re like “man you don’t have to pretend w us there’s no shame in being a bottom” and ilya is trying to murder them with his eyes
There's versions of her all over the world. Sometimes she's an ugly old witch who lives in a disappearing hut on chicken feet. Sometimes she's a wise woman, an enchantress, a healer. Sometimes she helps a hero on his quest. Sometimes she tests him, sometimes she kills him, sometimes she eats him, sometimes she fucks him. But she always has a name. Baba Yaga.
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