Fromtimetotime
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"Seven years you've been fucking me," Shane pounds into him. "Seven years of being in control. And now look at you - face down, ass up, begging for cock like a bitch in heat."
Shane wins the Stanley Cup. Ilya gets his hole stuffed full of Stanley Cup winning Hollander in the nastiest way.
Bookmarked by Fromtimetotime
21 Mar 2026
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Just the idea of it, of Kip coming twice on the end of his cock, because he’d pushed him, because he’d made him, is enough to tip Scott over the edge.
Or: Kip wants to come. Scott wants to help make that happen.
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Bookmarked by Fromtimetotime
20 Mar 2026
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Russians do not blush. Russians do not get sick. Ilya gets concussions. He gets stitches. He skates on cracked ribs and calls it fine. He does not get sick. Which is why, when he wakes up at three in the morning in the middle of June, shaking so hard his teeth knock together, his first instinct is irritation.
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Bookmarked by Fromtimetotime
18 Mar 2026
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Bookmarked by Fromtimetotime
12 Mar 2026
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Shane liked being fucked. He preferred being fucked, and he knew Ilya liked fucking him, too. Quite frankly as soon as Ilya got his dick in him Shane lost the ability to think about anything else, least of all consider doing something that would deprive him of the pleasure of it.
But now that Ilya had actually verbalized the possibility of a role reversal, Shane suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Could he make Ilya lose himself, like Ilya could do to him? Could he make Ilya come hands-free, with just his dick? Could he make it so good for Ilya that he felt like he might die, like Shane always did?
“I– maybe”, Shane manages, clearing his throat. “Is it– do you want to–?”
“I want what you want”, Ilya says easily. “But sometimes I think about it. Sometimes–” He trails off, his teeth grazing against Shane’s ear, itching for a bite. “... sometimes I want it.”
Bookmarked by Fromtimetotime
11 Mar 2026