Crashing out over Hollanov
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Summary
Then Ilya’s mouth was there. Right on the spot. His lips pressed a soft, lingering kiss to that exact patch of skin below Shane’s navel. It was a combination of the location, the tenderness of the gesture so at odds with Ilya’s usual aggressive passion, and the sheer accumulated sensitivity of weeks of focused attention that broke the dam.
or, that picture of Ilya kissing Shane's lower belly broke my brain.
Series
- Part 1 of Crashing out over Hollanov
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Summary
“So,” Ilya interrupted, holding up a finger. “You believe I am not strong enough? That your boyfriend, who lifts you against walls and carries you to bed, is too weak to handle you? That my face would break under the glorious weight of your perfect ass?”
Shane blinked.
(or, Shane refuses to sit on Ilya's face and Ilya takes personal offense to it.)
Tag to be covered: Ilya Rozanov Has a Thigh Kink
Series
- Part 2 of Crashing out over Hollanov
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Summary
“I was thinking of you,” Shane gasped. “Always you. Since… since Vegas. When you said… you wanted to watch.”
A slow, predatory smile touched Ilya’s lips. “And I am watching now. Are you going to be good for me?"
(or, Ilya walks in on Shane fingering himself and calling his name)
Tag to be covered: Shane Hollander Likes To Be Called "Good Boy"
Series
- Part 3 of Crashing out over Hollanov
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Summary
Ilya pulled back, gasping. His lower face was glistening wet in the dim light. He stared at the pulsing source between Shane’s legs with utter rapture.
“You squirt,” he breathed, awestruck. “I did not even finger you yet, and you squirt for me.” He gave a breathless, giddy laugh.
(or, Shane gets cursed with a pussy)
Tag to be covered: Shane Hollander Has a Vagina
Series
- Part 4 of Crashing out over Hollanov
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Summary
“Enough!” Shane snarled, his voice hoarse but fierce. He glared down at his alpha, whose lips were glistening with saliva and traces of colostrum. “You behave right now or so help me god, I will find that cock cage and that practice muzzle and you will spend the rest of this pregnancy locked and muzzled in the corner like the feral dog you are.”
The threat sent a jolt of pure electric lust straight to Ilya’s knot.
(or, what started as a cute Shane mpreg fic now has angry omega, tit fucking and muzzled alpha)
Tag to be covered: Shane Hollander Walks Ilya Rozanov Like A Dog
Series
- Part 5 of Crashing out over Hollanov
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Summary
Shane was looking down. His eyes were squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in intense, painful concentration. His lips were moving, silently shaping the words. Good. Night. Forming them slowly, carefully, in the secret space of his own mouth.
Ilya’s breath hitched. He’d never seen this. Why would he have? Shane had never been sad around him. Never hurt. Never in this kind of quiet, defeated pain. Around Ilya, Shane had been pleasured and angry and frustrated and gloriously competitive. But never this. Never shattered.
(or, everything is same but Shane has a slight stutter that gets bad when he's sad. Ilya has never heard it because Shane has never been sad around him. Until their night in Vegas.)
Series
- Part 6 of Crashing out over Hollanov
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Summary
“We didn’t kiss.”
Saying the words felt like a boulder had been lifted off his chest for a few blissful seconds before a whole mountain crashed down to take its place. What the fuck was he thinking? Saying something so pathetic, so needy, so utterly stupid over something so insignificant? Heat flooded his face, a different kind of shame, fresh and hot.
(or, I was mad that Shane never got any reassurance or apology for the Vegas humiliation ritual and "we didn't even kiss")
Series
- Part 7 of Crashing out over Hollanov