1 – 10 of 10 Works in Brat Shane Hollander

  • Brat Shane Hollander ×
  1. This boy would kill him. This gorgeous, precious and kinky boy will be his downfall, and Ilya will not even resist. “Yes moya lyubov. My little slut, only mine. No one else can have you, no one else is allowed to even look at you, yes? Only me.” “Yes, God. Only ever you.” Shane whined, throwing an arm over his face. “No no no, none of that now.” Ilya firmly pulled his arm away from his face, before pulling both of them up above his head, holding them there with one hand, “You cannot say such filth, and then get shy on me Hollander.” OR The Hollanov BDSM Mafia AU fic that my depraved brain has come up with.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    177,829
    Chapters:
    20/20
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #81564431
  2. "What is it?" "Just… what if you used me?" Shane's gaze drops to their intertwined hands, obviously feeling a bit self-conscious, Ilya can't help but smile at the gesture but then the words register in his brain. "Use you? Use you how?" He raises his eyebrows. Shane sighs. "Okay, so imagine… you come back home from the shoot and I'm waiting for you by the door, fully prepped and ready, on my knees, naked-" "Not naked," Ilya interrupts him with a strained voice. "Fine, not naked, you can undress me yourself if that's what you want," Ilya smirks. "Shut up, that's not all. The thing is… I'll be waiting for you and from the moment you enter through the door, whenever you feel like it, you can do whatever you want to me and with me" "Whatever?" Ilya gulps. "Yes, only if we've talked about it before though, because I won't be able to say no." "Fuck, Hollander."

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    8,648
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #86412531
  3. shane: ok so ur an intruder and you sneak into my house while im sleeping on the night of my birthday and torture me sexually for hours ilya: shane- shane: and you fuck my mouth and cum in it then duct tape it shut so i have no choice but to swallow it

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    9,902
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #84652316
  4. Shane Hollander, a well booked, in demand model is back for the summer for a well deserved break. It was all going so well until his car decides to break down. Unsure of what to do, he calls the first garage he can find, not expecting to meet the most infurtiating, aggravating and beautiful man he had ever seen.

    Or,

    Shane's a brat who is used to getting what he wants, Ilya Rozanov doesn't give into a pretty face that easy.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    25,178
    Chapters:
    2/2
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #82209291
  5. When Shane Hollander moves to Boston to be with his longtime boyfriend, he doesn't expect to start developing feelings for his boyfriend's oldest friend and roommate, Ilya Rozanov.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    45,741
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    2 versions
    AO3:
    #81960711
  6. Ilya convinces Shane to go to the club with him. While wearing a plug. This goes about how you’d expect.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    4,726
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #81166176
  7. Ilya slithers a hand to the hollow of Shane’s throat, resting it there. “Everything?” he repeats. “Yes, sir.” or Shane and Ilya’s little date by a pool table turns into a heated collision of desire and control.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    6,904
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #80522176
  8. "Shane and Ilya weren’t technically dating exclusively. Ilya could technically do whatever he wanted, but that technicality was mostly a glass wall in their relationship. Ilya should have known better than to go this far. Ilya knew Shane would see this. Ilya knew how jealous Shane got. Ilya knew, and he did it anyway. Obviously, Shane needed to tighten his leash. If Ilya wanted babies, he should have known that his only choice was Shane. " or The baby-trapping fic of my dreams.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    63,103
    Chapters:
    10/10
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #77051451
  9. “What are you doing?” Hollander asks, even though he is well aware that he has caused an avalanche. “I'm going to show you what can happen to boys like you when they forget their underwear.” OR: Shane comes home drunk and says he was at a bar with a man who repeatedly hit on him. Ilya resorts to drastic measures. It is a late December evening. It is already completely dark outside, and the snow-covered road leading to the cottage seems to disappear into the darkness, unlit by any of the motion- activated lamps. The temperature outside has dropped by a good dozen degrees compared to what it felt like in the morning, and Ilya feel that his home is not any warmer. He is terribly cold, his numb hands are shaking uncontrollably, and his legs, wrapped in a blanket, seem to be shaking as he nervously looks out the window. For a Russian, he does not tolerate the Canadian winter very well and has already fallen ill in the second week, which has ruled him out of training and matches until he finishes his course of antibiotics. This is hopeless, because he feels fine, is not contagious, has not had a fever for several days, and yet he will have to stay at home for another four days. He tried to calm his nerves in various ways: he prepared lunch boxes for Shane, watched a replay of the match, played a silly game about hockey, on the cover of which he once accidentally found himself, tried to finish reading a book, but it didn't help. He was still distracted and, above all, terrified. It's almost midnight, Shane finished playing the home game, which he lost about four hours ago, but he still hasn't come back. Ilya had sent several threatening text messages and even more messages saying, where the fuck are you, hollander, finally ending with a desperate sweetheart, im worried, and had called dozens of times, but Shane still wasn't answering. Ilya wasn't the type of boyfriend to panic and call as soon as his beloved was late. He probably wouldn't have considered the delay to be anything terrible, had it not been for the events of the past: that nightmarish night when he found his mother, that one terrible match during which he stood paralysed on the ice, watching as the semi-conscious Hollander was carried away on a stretcher. In addition, Shane was never the party type who would go to a bar after a match, whether they won or lost. He only celebrated big wins, usually for an hour or two, sipping ginger ale, already planning his escape to his quiet home in the back of his mind. Ilya tries to rationalise that there was no accident during the match and that the situation with Irina Rozanov is not something that could happen again with Shane. At least, that is what he hopes. Despite everything, the fear remains, and that voice is louder than the rational part of Rozanov's mind. He could have had a car accident on the ice- and snow-covered streets. The man is about to call Yuna, or even the police, when the door opens and a flushed, laughing Shane bursts through the door. His cheeks are red from the cold, and his eyes are shining with joy, and although the weight lifts from Ilya's heart, he immediately notices that Shane is drunk as a skunk. "Ilyaaaa!" he shouts from the doorway, throwing himself into his arms. "I missed you!" The man returns the hug and all the fervent kisses that Shane begins to shower him with after a moment, but he knows that in the situation they find themselves in, he has to talk to the man. "You've been drinking." Ilya states rather than asks, looking at his red cheeks and glassy eyes, his distracted smile and exposed neck. "It's fucking December, where's your scarf?" Shane's enthusiasm wanes a little when he sees Ilya's reaction. "Are you angry?" he asks, lowering his head like a scolded child. "I'm angry that you didn't text me to say you'd be late. I was worried," he says, letting Shane hug him again, while trying to warm his numb hands and shoulders. "I swear, I was only at the bar with Wilson for a moment, I didn't drink much, you didn't need to worry," Shane assures him, as if alcohol was the cause of Ilya's concern. And although Rozanov had been more worried than angry until now, the name hit him like a slap in the face. The man had repeatedly tried to flirt with Shane, indiscreetly suggesting a meeting at his place, ignoring Ilya's existence, and once brazenly tried to kiss Shane in Ilya's presence, so, well, the man had a right to feel jealous. "With who, excuse me?" Ilya asks angrily. "With Wilson, you know, the hockey player from..." "I know who Wilson is. Did it ever occur to you for a single fucking second that he was trying to get you drunk in the hope that you would become easy?" Shane is still standing between the hallway and the sofa, his eyes wide open, now bewildered by the man's anger. He can't remember the last time, if ever, Ilya was so jealous and angry during their relationship.

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    English
    Words:
    2,193
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #77257941
  10. “Like you could even drive mine, Hollander. Too strong, too powerful for boring man like you,” he bellows, eyes sharp and smoldering. And the implication isn't lost on Shane. “You don't know that,” Shane scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Want to test drive then?” Ilya slides the key fob towards the space between them. When his vodka arrives, Shane's hand darts to grab the glass and downs it all in one go. “You take me,” he says through a grimace. “If I like how it…drives, maybe I'll buy it from you when I steal that Stanley from under your nose,” he mumbles before walking off towards said car. Ilya just cocks a brow up, amused. “Maybe I need to put a muzzle on you, Hollander,” Within the space of a hundred roaring sports cars, Shane Hollander finds his favorite ride.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    3,110
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #76850856