1 – 3 of 3 Works in Obedient Shane Hollander
- Obedient Shane Hollander ×
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“I’m bad at keeping my emotions bubbled. You’re good at being perfect. We’re good at being troubled.” - IFHY by Tyler, The Creator
OR; Ilya is completely obsessed with Shane and stalks him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 38,077
- Chapters:
- 15/15
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78687041
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Desperate for Ilya's touch, soft or rough, Shane makes a risky trip to Boston for a weekend to submit to the other man, eager and ready to be pushed to new limits.
- Part 3 of Hollanov D/s
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,449
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76575321
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About a month after Las Vegas, Ilya has his day with the Stanley Cup. He texts Shane to fly to Boston and celebrate with him, and they have angsty sex with the Cup in the room. FYI: It's a superstition that touching the Cup before you've won it will prevent your team from winning it. Thursday July 17, 2014 12:46pm Lily: What are you doing this weekend? Jane: Nothing. Why? Lily: Come to Boston Jane: Why? Lily: 🙄 Jane: Aren’t you in Moscow? Lily: Not yet. Come to Boston Lily: The 19th Jane: What? I can’t! That’s this Saturday Lily: Will be worth your while 😉 Jane: No way 1:24pm Jane: Flight lands at 3 Lily: 😘 *** “Are you fucking kidding me?” Hollander dropped his duffel bag, jaw slack with disbelief. Ilya stretched his arms out in welcome, a wide smile on his face. “Glad you could make it.” Sitting in the middle of his luxury penthouse was three feet of gleaming silver, practically winking between them. Ilya leaned over, resting his arms over the top of the Stanley Cup. “This is why you texted me?” Anger twisted in Hollander’s eyes, and Ilya immediately knew he’d made the right choice on how to spend his day with the Cup. “Thought I’d let you see it for yourself.” Ilya grinned. “You will probably not get another chance to be so close to it, so.” “God, fuuuck you.” Hollander rolled his entire head as he said it, looking to the ceiling as though it might have some answers. “Yes.” Ilya smirked, nodding. Hollander turned back sharply. “So that’s it? You wanna fuck me with the Stanley Cup in the room?” And there was that heat, the exact reason Ilya had known Hollander was the perfect person to celebrate with. Internally, he felt like cheering. Instead, he sauntered over, grabbing Hollander by the waist and pulling him close. The look in his eyes was so murderous it was making Ilya giddy. Hollander hadn’t even been there for five minutes, and it was already giving him a head rush. He hadn’t known if he would show up. After the NHL Awards, Ilya told himself he’d let it rest this summer. He’d enjoyed the Cup parade. He’d seen Svetlana. He’d delayed his flight to Moscow once, then twice. But now a month had passed, and on late nights and in morning showers, he could not shake the mental image of Shane Hollander jerking off for him in a Las Vegas hotel suite. The thought of that obedience alone had already made him come into his fist more times than he could count. “I’ll let you touch it.” Ilya purred, pushing his hips into Hollander’s, lining their cocks up through their sweatpants. “If you want.” Hollander tried to pin him against the wall, but Ilya had already moved on to stripping clothes off of him, piece by piece, as he tugged him further into the room. He felt cold metal hit his back and wobble, and Hollander immediately let him go, jumping back three feet. “I swear to God, Rozanov, if you let me anywhere near that thing—” “Shh, shh.” Ilya cooed, returning the Cup to its standing position before pulling Hollander back into his arms. Hollander spooked easily, and he was well aware that he was already walking a fine line. In an effort to calm him down, he kissed him, enjoying how quickly he softened in response. “Is okay. You will probably never get one of these either way.” Hollander’s nostrils flared in an intoxicating mixture of fury and arousal. “Get. Fucked.” “Am hoping to,” Ilya leaned down, dragging his lips along Hollander’s jaw and tracing teasing fingers along the soft skin beneath his shirt. Hollander exhaled, closing his eyes as he fought the inevitable, but Ilya could already feel him growing hard against him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,676
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #72847221