Chapter Text
Shane had told himself not to fall for him. It was a promise he had whispered to himself when he saw him, wet, dripping, and hard. He smelled divine: cedarwood, amber, and the most decadent nutmeg vanilla undertone. It made Shane’s gums ache with the need to bite.
Throughout the years, the same thought remained. Shane Hollander, do not let yourself fall for him. He used it to power through his very short-lived relationship with Rose (a perfect alpha, with her coconut smell, peppered with some chocolate notes underneath, a very polished decision for his clean-cut image), and through—
“Stop thinking.” A big, calloused hand grabbed his jaw, Ilya’s hand caressing his face, a thumb pressing on his lower lip. He felt lightheaded. And giddy. “Look at me, Shane.”
And that, that was new.
Ilya had not called him by his first name since Shane ran out of his apartment.
A crazy loop of ohfuckohyouidiotohfuck and ohnoyouareinlovewithhimohfuckohmygod going through his head and his entire nervous system, giving distress signals to everyone in a mile radius; especially to Hayden, once he went back into the hotel room. Far away from his alpha.
Unable to resist, he looked up. He knew what he was doing, pressing his chin towards Ilya’s palm, like a cat purring for attention. Ilya growled deep in his chest, making Shane’s thighs tremble. Shane felt his slick leak down his thighs, and for once in his life, he didn’t feel shame. He felt powerful, and fucking soaked.
Ilya’s scent responded in kind to his, deepening most enticingly. Fuck.
They finally knew where they stood and what they felt for each other. They had not said it in words, not yet, but Ilya’s opal eyes left nothing to the imagination.
There was a hunger behind them that he had felt since the beginning, through hotel rooms, against doors, mattresses, and now, all of that gave him this: their scents mingling perfectly, a combination that made Shane keen. Ilya was not far behind, and he looked it. He kept sniffing their mixed scents as if he needed them to survive, and it made Shane lose it. He pressed his face insistently towards Ilya’s hand, opening his mouth like a bitch in heat. Fuck, he wasn’t, he knew he wasn’t, but with the way he needed Ilya… Maybe he could, if Ilya was closer to his rut.
His beautiful alpha understood him perfectly and pressed two of those thick fingers inside his mouth. Shane moaned, high on his throat, unconsciously rutting his clit against the mattress. He maintained eye contact with his alpha, letting the whines and keens escape his mouth, while his eyes started to tear up.
“My beautiful omega.” Ilya’s accent embraced the words with such care that Shane felt it to his core. He was trembling; he could feel it, and the slick pouring out of him in copious amounts only made it worse. “You are making such a mess, and I haven’t even touched you properly. Look at you, all dressed in your linen clothes… Looking like such a good boy, only to slut it out like this…”
God, Ilya knew exactly how to get him, and he felt his eyes roll back at the words, sucking his alpha’s fingers (thick, strong, way bigger than his, fuck) into his mouth, needing the oral stimulation to focus. Fuck, he truly was a slut for Ilya.
⭐︎
The room around Ilya smelled like Shane. That tantalizing smell that had him losing his mind way back then, making him, someone who could have anyone, organize a fucking photoshoot with Shane Hollander so that he could smell him again.
Ilya had never met someone who smelled like Shane before. And believe him, being bisexual, he searched. No alpha, omega, or even beta smelled as good as his omega. And it was torturous.
His smell, an irresistible mix of vanilla and cacao, rum, and to top it all off, a warm spiced finish that made Ilya crumble every time he smelled it. The spices got headier when Shane was about to cum, and Ilya swore that it got him drunker than any good vodka.
Thank fuck that Shane wore scent patches everywhere, a paranoid move that forced everyone to forget that yes, he was an omega, and fucking better than you. Ilya mourned it and celebrated it at the same time.
On one hand, he wanted to smell him all the fucking time, god, he needed to. But if anyone else smelled his omega, it would cause a riot.
You see, Shane’s smell was so captivating that it made a controlled alpha like Ilya, who had scored the highest at all the fucking tests to ever exist on consent and restrain, want to fall to his knees the first time he smelled him properly.
The first time he had smelled Shane, it was a quick sniff during their first conversation. Somehow, it had gotten out of his many layers, and Ilya got a taste of it. He had felt drunk off it, his fangs half-dropping, something that had not happened to him since he presented. God, he had been so close to jumping him.
Even now, years later, years where he had been with a lot of people. Slutting it out, said his dear Sveta. He had been with some omegas, with their own scents that turned heads, and to Ilya, that was all fine and dandy, but it did nothing to him. Alphas’ smells were different, stronger, sometimes too strong, and Ilya liked them, but their smells did not phase him. Betas were often sweet, smelling like fruit, with a hint of spice to even it out.
No one had ever compared to Shane. No-fucking-one.
Once, before an All-Star game, he felt the moment Shane took his scent patch before quickly applying a new one. He wasn’t the only one. Shane was hidden on a stall, the furthest from everyone, and for only a millisecond, the time it took to—quickly— reapply it, all the guys in the dressing room stood up to attention, ready to impress, and Ilya felt like he was dying.
He felt his alpha want to fight for his omega. He was overwhelmed with the need to fight everyone around, no matter who, to be the one able to smell his boy. His omega. Hishishis.
He remembers fighting it the best he could, focusing on what Shane would say if he lost his renowned focus for this. For him. (He would, though, if he knew it wouldn’t bite him in the ass, he would lose it at the sight of Shane, every single time.)
His mantra at that time was to fucking get over him. Get over Shane Hollander. What a fucking hard task, once you have seen his freckles up close, the way he scrunches his nose when he smiles up at Ilya, the way he looks at Ilya inside the ring, ready to win another face-off.
Now, with his omega sucking on his fingers like a fucking pornstar, he felt the confession at the tip of his tongue. The smell of his slick was heavenly, yet all Ilya could focus on was the heady look on Shane’s eyes, directed at him, only him, while his beautiful boy grinded against the bed.
Kak yemu tak povezlo? (How did he get so lucky?)
“Needy omega.” He whispered, his accent coming out rough around the words, and he saw Shane’s pupils dilate further. Fuck, how could he refuse such a treat for himself?
He grabbed Shane’s chin forcefully, taking his sticky fingers out of that heavenly heat, and kissed him as if his life depended on it. He bit roughly at Shane’s lower lip, tasting iron, and yes. His alpha preened at the feral taste of blood, relishing having more of Shane inside of him.
The need to have Shane overwhelmed him sometimes—most of the time, truthfully—and he longed to have him, fully. Whatever he can get, he will, selfishly, steal. Slick, cum, blood. His fangs longed to press into that smooth skin between neck and shoulder, right on where Shane is the most vulnerable, most pliant. Or in the juncture between his thighs and flank, where his scent got the thickest, closer to where his slick is produced.
He heard Shane whimper, and that was all it took for Ilya to lose it completely. He grabbed his beautiful omega by his thighs, joining their bodies without a care in the world on top of the bed. He could feel Shane rutting against him now, soaked through his briefs, and fuck, he looked beautiful on top of him. He was looking at him with those doe eyes that drove Ilya crazy, the color of molten amber, with the prettiest eyelashes framing them.
Shane Hollander was irresistible. He was a war weapon turned hockey player. And he was all Ilya’s.
(Or he wished he was. Today was the day. He couldn’t fuck this up again. He needed Shane all to himself, or he would slowly perish away. Like a fruit.)
“Ilya…” Shane’s voice was more of a mewl than anything, and it lit a fire inside of him. “Alpha… Want you inside of me...”
⭐︎
Shane felt feverish in his need; everything was moving slowly when he needed it to be fast, now. He needed Ilya inside of him, pronto. He had been fantasizing about his alpha’s cock since he left Boston. What a fucking mistake, trying to lie to himself. What a waste of time, truly, that he could’ve had with Ilya.
He pushed up, unhurriedly climbing off Ilya’s lap, and he could hear the alpha’s protests, an arm about to grab his when he spoke, “wait, wait, i’m—” he couldn’t even finish before he was standing, and he got rid of his remaining clothes quickly.
“Fuck, Shane.”
Shane had a terrible secret; his knees felt weak every time his alpha’s accent spiked. It was horrible, an incredibly stupid fetish to have when you are sleeping with a russian man, truly. The way it wrapped around certain words, mostly swear words, made him produce slick like a bitch in heat. Ilya’s stilted words, which sometimes pulled his face into an embarrassed frown, made Shane want to kiss him until he had his way with him.
Seeing as today was the day of revelations, Shane chose to be brave.
“I have something to confess,” he said as he settled down onto Ilya’s lap again, worrying his lower lip, still flush with blood, into his mouth, “imighthaveakinkforyouraccent.”
“What?” And ugh, the way he said what got another wave of slick, as if to drive the point home. “Baby, I don’t–”
Baby? Baby. Baby! Shane.rar is not working. Please try again later.
“Ilya.” His voice sounded desperate even to himself; he felt himself flush all over, down to his stomach. “I have a… fetish. A kink. For your accent. I like your accent. The way you pronounce words,” he saw Ilya, who was blushing, as if this was the best news of his life, mouth pronounce, “it drives me insane, Ilya.”
Out of all the things he expected after his confession—a smug Ilya, bragging about it till the end of the earth, or a confused one, not understanding the why of it all—he never considered the idea of this.
Ilya let a giggle. A giggle. It was the cutest sound Shane had ever heard from him, and even though he was naked on his lap, with Ilya’s wandering hands caressing him all over, the need for him ever-strong, he joined him in his laughter.
“Я люблю тебя, Shane Hollander.”
It sounded final and familiar. He had heard that phrase before. Shane had a feeling he knew what Ilya was saying, but he would never, could never, assume that. He needed Ilya to tell him for sure. To confess.
Suddenly, he understood. A confession for a confession. Fuck.
“I love you, Ilya Grigoryevich Rozanov.”
With one movement, Shane was right where he wanted to be; underneath the love of his life, who had tears in his eyes, looking down at him with what could only be described as heart eyes.
He felt his breath get caught in his chest, all of his emotions bunched up into a tiny ball, placed right on his heart. He moved forward, grabbing those beautiful curls with both hands, and kissed his alpha with all his might.
Ilya reciprocated immediately, kissing him slowly, as if he was eating Shane from the inside-out. It made him shiver, the way Ilya could get under his skin like that, and so quickly. With only a kiss, he was reduced to a whiny omega in need of a knot. His alpha’s knot.
He felt his alpha’s hands move down, down, down, right into his ass, squeezing it roughly. Shane moaned shamelessly into Ilya’s mouth, opening his legs to give Ilya more space to work. He moved back and looked at Ilya, staring at him with the sluttiest look he could muster. He only got a rough growl as a response, Ilya’s eyes flashing red for longer than he thought he would.
Not longer Mr Restraint, huh. His omega preened inside of him, knowing how much of a reputation his alpha had for having such restraint, such a controlled alpha, everyone said. Never acting out of order, not even when a dumb alpha tried to chirp at him about his mother, or an omega woman threw a hockey jersey with her scent all plastered on it for Ilya. Shane had lost it that time, calling Ilya like they weren’t just fuck buddies, like the omega had any claim to the alpha. Mineminemine was all he could think of at such an attack on his place in Ilya’s life.
Nothing ever phased Ilya Rozanov, according to everyone.
Nothing, except Shane Hollander opening his legs to show him his pussy, wet and pink, oozing slick just for him. He saw Ilya’s fangs drop at that exact moment, the way his eyes kept changing from opal to red and back to opal, as if he was trying to contain himself, yet couldn’t.
Smiling as innocently as he could, he moved his hand towards his pussy, slowly playing with his folds, slicking them up, then dipping them inside of him. He made a show of moaning, showing his mating gland with a whorish moan, throwing his head back on the pillow.
As he predicted, Ilya snapped. He grabbed his hand and licked all over the fingers with an unprecedented hunger, sucking on them like the best dessert ever made. It got another rush of slick out of Shane, and Ilya zeroed on it.
Before he could even think, Ilya was on him. He took hold of his legs and forced them into his broad shoulders, and without ceremony, he dived into Shane’s pussy. Fuck, yes. This is exactly what he needed.
⭐︎
He couldn’t get enough of the taste. It tasted better than he had ever imagined. Shane had never let Ilya go down on him, too into his head to enjoy it, he said. And Ilya had asked, again and again, desperate for the taste of his omega. But Shane had never, ever let him.
Until today. And fuck it if Ilya wasn’t about to prove himself to his omega.
He took hold of Shane’s thighs, grabbing them tightly, hoping for bruises tomorrow. Fuck. He dove right in, pushing his nose against Shane’s clit, getting the purest scent right from the source. God, he was getting drunk off it.
He moved to wrap his lips around Shane’s clit, sucking on it like it was the tastiest lollipop, and it was. God, it was. Shane was moaning and trembling, shaking into Ilya's tongue, dripping slick all over it, and Ilya couldn’t help the groan that escaped him. He moved from sucking to licking, pressing his tongue over the bundle of nerves, and exploring Shane’s pussy with gusto. He had wanted to do this for so many years, dreamt of it since the day they met, since he saw his omega in that shower, without a scent match on, and almost fell down on his knees right then and there. Since that moment, Shane had owned him.
He could live just doing this, truly. On his knees for Shane, to give him as much pleasure as his omega needed. Deserved, truly. With that in mind, he renewed his efforts, moving his head side-by-side with his tongue out, grabbing all the slick as it trickled out.
His omega was crying, shoving his hips into Ilya’s mouth with the sloppiest rhythm. Ilya hummed, sending the vibrations right into his clit, and sucked it into his mouth again. He moved his hand slowly, so as not to show Shane his plan, then plunged two fingers into him, hard.
Shane shouted, a pitiful whimper petering the sound off, and Ilya felt two hands grabbing onto his curls, shoving his head forcefully into his omega’s cunt, as if he needed more motivation to take his omega into pieces. He turned up the efforts, just for his Shane.
It felt feral, the need to get his omega to cum for him, to taste the cum right from the source. He scissored his fingers into him, sucking the clit into his mouth, his tongue working it slowly, trying to find the way Shane liked it.
So many years together, yet another first for them. It felt fresh, like a new chapter. And it tasted like a dream Ilya had every night.
He upped the intensity with his fingers, adding a third one, and crooking them at the right angle. At the same time, he licked into Shane hungrily, alternating between sucking and licking, and he could hear Shane’s little huh, unghh, huh increasing, his entire body shivering because of Ilya. What a rush.
With the last suck, he pressed his nose against the clit and added his tongue between his fingers, deep inside of him, tasting him for the first time right from the source. He couldn’t stop the feral growl that escaped him, fuck, he tasted even better than the little tastes he had before. This was the most decadent dessert, a delicacy made for more deserving men, yet it was all for him. He felt his alpha take control of him, and he only heard Shane’s muffled shriek, focused on the task before him.
He got his fingers out of Shane in a second and replaced them with his tongue, dipping into him like a man starved. He tried to get all of that heavenly taste, the spices around the omega’s scent spiked, and he knew exactly how to get them to implode; he moved his hand into Shane’s clit, spanking it, smirking when he felt Shane clench around Ilya’s tongue, and he pressed into his puffy clit, a beautiful pink that had Ilya obsessed, and moved his hand as quickly as he could, thanking the hockey gods for his hand-to-mouth coordination, as he dove his tongue as deep as he could.
⭐︎
Shane was sobbing, shaking, his orgasm in crescendo in a way he had never felt before. Ilya was everywhere, his hand alternating from spanking to playing as quickly as he could with his pussy. That damned tongue was making a place for itself inside of him, right where it belonged. He was soaked, completely out of his mind, and as soon as he felt Ilya’s last precise spank, he saw stars.
His whole body seized in pleasure, clenching around Ilya, trying to keep him in place. His eyes rolled back, and his hips were thrusting into his alpha’s face, trying to use him for his pleasure. The high never left, and Shane realized it at the same time as Ilya; he was squirting, right into his alpha’s face. Ohmygod. He had never squirted. Ever.
And now he was doing it right into Ilya’s face, little grinding movements made it even worse, soaking Ilya, and fuck, the thought came unbidden to Shane. He understood why he was squirting. He understood why he had never before, in a quick turnaround.
Squirting was for mates; to impregnate the alpha with his omega’s scent, in a way the alpha could not get rid of. Shane had done that. Even before Ilya had mated him.
Oh, fuck.
He felt Ilya disentangle himself from his legs, pressing his hand into his soaked face, and to Shane's complete surprise and embarrassment, he proceeded to lick all the slick off his fingers. Shane felt more of his slick trickle out of him in the process.
“I–I’m sorr–”
“Omega.” There was no doubt in his voice, and he wasn’t asking; he was declaring it. “My omega.”
Shane was purring. Purring. Because the alpha he had spent all his life in love with was declaring him his. Seventeen-year-old Shane was the reason this was happening, and isn’t that the funniest thing?
He had always been talked about as an antisocial person. And true, he didn’t like too many people. Yet, for some unforeseen reason, he had been drawn to Ilya Rozanov, and he had initiated contact. Not the other way around.
“Alpha.” He let his omega take charge of his tone of voice, his logical thoughts taking the backseat at the moment, and he sounded wrecked. “Please be mine.”
He felt more than heard Ilya’s chuckle, making him shiver, “I’ve always been yours, Shane.”
“Bite me, Ilya.”
Ilya looked at him with wide eyes, a mix of emotions in his face: love, devotion, but also doubt, not of them, but of the situation. He looked like someone handed him a silver platter with everything he had ever wanted, yet he was hesitant to believe it true.
“Shane…” His voice was tentative, his eyes full of a feeling Shane couldn’t name. “Are you sure? I— I know I can be a lot, and if this is something you’ve only thought now—”
“I’ve thought about this since I saw you.” He admitted, his voice hushed, as if he were in a church confessing his deepest secret. In a way, he was. “I’ve wanted you as my alpha since I met you, Ilya, I just didn’t know if you wanted me back—”
Ilya pounced on him; there was no better way to describe it. His body was still with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and his alpha touching him everywhere was not making it go away any quicker. But it felt good, it felt right to have Ilya skin-to-skin.
“I always wanted you. My omega.” Ilya’s words felt jumbled, as if he needed to get them out as quickly as possible, and he didn’t think of the correct way to put them. “It was always you, Shane.”
Those words lit something deep in him, a spark so bright that he couldn’t feel anything else. His alpha. His Ilya. They had been stupid, fuck, for so many years. I felt like the game of the mouse and the cat, always playing to catch each other, yet neither ever truly did. Until now.
Shane knew what he wanted, and now Ilya knew what Shane wanted. Fuck it. He stared deep into those beautiful eyes, and with a determination he didn’t know he had for something other than hockey, he presented his mating gland to Ilya.
⭐︎
Ilya was floating. He didn’t want to wake up and find out this was a dream. Shane Hollander wanted Ilya for a mate? He didn’t think there was a world where that made sense, not really. He heard him declare his love for Ilya, but… A lot of couples don’t mate. A lot of couples who have been together for years don’t mate. It’s intimate.
It’s a forever thing. The scents mingle completely, mixing into something entirely new for each of them. Of course, if one uses scent patches to cover it up, people don’t find the change as startling. But… emotionally, the bond put everything on the open. No more hiding from each other, no more not-knowing, no more being alone. Ilya knew how much Shane liked being alone.
His fangs had dropped the moment he saw Shane’s mating gland being presented to him, and the idea of owning his omega made Ilya go cross-eyed. Shane laughed at him for a second, and Ilya couldn’t get himself to care. Fuck. He pinched himself, and God, yeah, it was real.
“We—We should do it properly. While I’m inside you. Pozhaluysta.” Ilya knew his words came out in blurts, his brain not computing the situation at hand, but he couldn’t help it. This was his dream. His whole life. “Please.”
Before he had even finished, Shane was flipping them, pushing Ilya into the mattress, and climbing into his lap like it was his life purpose. He looked like sin. Ilya couldn’t help but admire the stretch marks covering Shane’s ass, and he caressed them with care, the soft skin that soon would be his. God.
Shane grabbed his face, locking eyes with him with such a fierce look that Ilya felt shaken to his soul. He nodded, biting into his lower lip to keep any embarrassing sound from escaping him. His omega nodded back at him and grabbed Ilya’s dick with one hand. Ilya hissed, his head thudding back into the pillow at the sensation. He felt like a livewire, ready to explode.
He heard Shane take a deep breath and then felt him sink onto Ilya’s length. No more prep than an orgasm, three of Ilya’s fingers, and a fucking squirt he pressed deep into Ilya’s skin. He will never get it off his skin, and he was thankful for it. As thankful as he felt for the tightness of Shane’s cunt.
Oh. Oh fuck.
“Shane,” he squeezed the sound out of his throat, “condom. Baby, condom.”
He felt Shane shake his head no, and Ilya was going to die. He was going to die deep inside his omega, deep inside the love of his life. Death by Shane Hollander. He had always known he would die by Shane’s hand, but this?
“Mine.” Shane declared with a swipe of his claws onto Ilya’s chest. It took everything in Ilya not to thrust upwards, right into that tight, heavenly heat. “Wanna feel you, and I want you to knot me.”
Ilya nodded dumbly, his lips wide open, looking devoutly at Shane. Whatever Shane asked of him, Shane got. That was his religion.
“Wan’you to get me full of your pups.”
At the words, he let out the deepest growl of his life. He took hold of Shane’s waist and thrust deep into him, making space for himself, right where he belonged. Shane wailed in unison to his alpha’s growl, and he preened at the fact that with barely just one thrust, his omega was crumbling.
He moved his hands down towards his omega’s thighs, moving them in tandem with his hips’ thrusts. He felt like he was going crazy, carving into Shane with his cock, and all Shane could do was hang along for the ride. The squelching noises were maddening, spurring Ilya on like a fan’s applause in the rink.
“My omega. My slut.” As soon as he said it, Shane clenched deep on his cock, and it took everything in Ilya not to come. “Yes, just like that. You’re so tight, ‘mega.”
Shane was crying again, sobbing and wailing at the pace Ilya was setting, quick and dirty, just how Shane liked it. Ilya knew his cock was curved just so, in a way that always got into Shane’s G-spot when he thrust in just right. Ilya focused, his brow furrowing as if he was in the middle of the most important game of the season, and moved Shane’s right leg to his shoulder, utilizing his omega’s flexibility in his favor.
It was worth it, because all he could feel and hear and taste was Shane, who was screaming little unhg, right there, please, Ilya, alpha, rightthererighttheredontmove, and Ilya knew it was time. Without stopping his movements, he moved Shane’s head to the side, presenting his bare mating gland for the last time.
He made eye contact with him, raising his brow questioningly, sweat falling down their faces. Shane mewled at him, no words coming out of him, just tiny sounds that made Ilya’s ego skyrocket. As if it took all of his coordination, Shane’s nod came slowly, and Ilya didn’t waste any more time.
He bit. The flow of blood filled his mouth, but he didn’t dare to stop thrusting into Shane’s pliant body, not when he sounded like that when he was filled by Ilya’s cock. His alpha’s cock. He was his. Oh fuck. The bond was forming slowly but surely, and he could smell their scents mingling together into a mouthwatering mix. Cacao, nutmeg vainilla, rum, and amber.
Perfect.
He sealed the bite with his saliva, watching it close as he rested his head into Shane’s shoulder, and everything hit. Shane had been clenching-unclenching-clenching for a minute, and it felt as if he was milking him. He realized, dumbly, that his omega was actually milking him. He wanted his pups.
He looked up to Shane, who was staring at him with stars in his eyes, and smirked.
Slowly but surely, he showed Shane his bare mating gland. It was not done, not outside of alpha-alpha relations, which were spare and hard to find, but Ilya wanted Shane to have him as he had him.
Shane widened his eyes, shocked and elated, and without a doubt, he bit into Ilya’s neck, hard enough to break through the gland. Ilya’s body felt out of control, everything recalibrating as if he was a F1 car and needed an engineer to put it back together. With a lick, Shane brought him back.
“Mine.” Shane’s lips were bloody, and his eyes were sparkling. He had never looked so beautiful. “No one will ever steal you from me again.”
Again? He shelved that for another time and pressed his lips against Shane’s, feeling the elation through the bond and the feral need each of them felt for each other. It was dizzying, it was perfect, it was them.
He felt Shane clench on him again, and he regained his brain function, focusing back on bringing his omega as many orgasms as he could.
⭐︎
They were mated. It all clicked back into place for Shane. Ilya, with a mating gland on his neck, claiming him as Shane’s. And God, their scents. They smelled so fucking good together, something Shane had always thought in the solace of his own house. Now, their scents mixed together made Shane’s gums ache, a need to bite Ilya again almost uncontrollable. And what was another bite to the mix?
He grabbed onto Ilya’s neck, moving down on his cock slowly to distract him, and Shane got him. As soon as Ilya’s eyes went into a trance on his cock entering Shane’s cunt, the omega bit into the fleshy part of his alpha’s pectoral, leaving the perfect indent of his fangs.
Ilya howled, his eyes turning red again and staying red. Oh fuck. Shane was fucked.
His alpha stared at him with those glowing red eyes, his fangs fully out, and he could feel his dick get bigger inside of him. Ohfuck. He was going to get bred like a bitch. Best act how one.
“Breed me, alpha.” He started bouncing on his Ilya’s cock, trying to get the situation under control, when he was flipped into the bed, a hand keeping his wrists immobile at the top of Shane’s head. He was in the position that Ilya liked to call shut up and take it, and he felt like he was going to die.
Ilya started to pound into him like a feral animal, without a care in the world, trusting that the bond between them would inform them if he ever hurt him. He was fully using Shane like the omega he was, but this time, he was Ilya’s omega, his to breed, his to own. His to pump full of cum, and use him as he sees fit.
It made Shane wail, a stream of filthy russian whispered into his ear, and he didn’t fully understand it, but fuck, he did. The way Ilya’s big hand was pressed into Shane’s stomach, pressing into where he was fucking into him, a filthy moan coming out of Ilya as Shane clenched again and again on his cock, wanting to keep it for himself.
It was the best sex he had ever had. And of course it was with Ilya. It always was. And now it was Shane’s forever thing. A forever love, a forever man to fuck him and be his alpha. The best alpha in the league. The best alpha for him. Only him.
Without warning, Shane came. It startled him out of his trance, the way he was squirting again, but now into Ilya’s cock, claiming it as his. His cock to use and use until he got round with pup, until he had enough for the day.
Ilya was pounding into him harder now, his hips hitting Shane’s with such strength that Shane’s head shook, Ilya’s balls slapping into his pussy, making him cry out again. His orgasm felt everlasting, his entire body seizing as Ilya kept moving, chasing his pleasure, and a part of his omega head whispered darkly yes, use me, alpha before Shane could tamp it down.
He clenched down hard, right when Ilya thrust in again, and his alpha let out an earthshattering sound. A sound caught between a growl and a whine, full of power and desperation.
“Cum for me, alpha. Fill me full of pups.” He whispered right into Ilya’s ear, grabbing his neck and pressing his lips on the newly scarred mating gland. That was all it took for Shane to feel Ilya’s knot start filling up, the thrusts turning into a slow grind that made Shane see stars.
He felt everything, and oh god, he didn’t want to go back to condoms ever again. He felt full to the brim. He had already tasted that feeling with Ilya’s cock, even without a knot, but now? He felt it on his throat, his stomach distended even before Ilya had cum inside of him.
This man was going to be the death of him.
⭐︎
Shane Hollander was going to be the death of him.
As his knot inflated, he kept grinding slowly into Shane’s cunt, puffy folds wrapped around his dick, and the way that cunt grabbed onto his knot made Ilya’s head spin. He had never knotted anyone; he had not wanted that intimacy with anyone but Shane, and Shane had run from the intimacy of his first name, so he had shelved it and forgotten about it.
(He dreamt about knotting Shane Hollander since the day he had met him.)
Now, halfway through the paces, he felt the adrenaline of a win fill his entire body as he came inside his omega, load after load filling his precious boy, until he could see how his body was adjusting to the new feeling.
He saw Shane’s eyes get hazy, mouth open, and pink. Ilya wanted to eat him. Bit him until everyone knew Shane was his, until no one even approached Ilya with interest, because everyone already assumed he was taken.
As the rush of his orgasm came down, he plopped his head on top of Shane’s chest, murmuring, “I love you… more than life.” Shane let out a sob and hugged him tightly against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”
“Me neither. I’m yours, Alpha.” Ilya blinked through his tears as he felt the love Shane sent through their bond, overwhelmed at the pure love he sensed. He focused for a second and sent his complete and utter adoration towards Shane.
“Oh.” Shane let out, pink mouth open again, and Ilya couldn’t help but kiss him softly, sealing their lips together as if to say imhereandillalwaysbehereforyou. Shane hummed against his lips and tried to pull him even closer towards him. He failed, and Ilya couldn’t help but laugh.
“You want me to crawl into you, 'mega?” He joked, eyes alight with the need they both felt for each other. For the first time, he knew exactly what Shane was feeling, what Shane was thinking. He licked his lips, chasing Shane’s taste off of them.
“Yeah.” The breathy whisper was a declaration of love for Ilya, and he had to blink away some tears at the combination of hearing that and feeling the devotion from Shane’s side of the bond.
“Я тебя люблю, ‘mega.” His voice was rough, a confession in his own right, even though Shane already knew it, felt it. “Since I met you.”
“I love you, Alpha.” Shane murmured back against Ilya’s lips, stealing a kiss to seal the deal, and Ilya couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. He chased Shane as he moved back. “You and I, forever, Ilya. I promise.”