syndicate_dynamite



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Hollander is always a bit like that, in increments. He takes every loss personally – every missed shot, every empty netter, every failed pass. He could stand to get out of his head for a while.

    It would be good, Ilya thinks, for him to calm down.

    To sit and relax, maybe.

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    15 Jul 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    The sound Shane makes now is not a whine or a whimper. It’s the sound of an omega. It’s the sound of an omega in distress.

    “Did he just—” someone says from behind him.

    “Shit, Marleau, did you just bitch Shane Hollander?”

    --OR--

    Shane gets hit hard enough to trigger a traumatic omegatisation, which sends an entire stadium of alphas into frenzy. Ilya needs to get him off the ice, away from the danger, and onto his knot.

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    25 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya’s heart shattered. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he buried his face in Shane's neck to hide them, kissing him and whispering how much he loved him as Shane whined and begged and whimpered for something he couldn’t give him. It lasted for hours, no matter how hard Ilya fucked him or how many times he used the knotting toy. Shane was delirious, could not seem to comprehend that Ilya was a Beta, no matter how many times he reminded him, apologized to him, begged him with his eyes to please stop. When Shane finally passed out, Ilya sat up staring at the wall for hours.

    He’d finally figured it out, the one thing he could never give Shane, no matter how much he tried. There was no substitute, no toy that could compare. Ilya was lacking, and Shane knew it now, would come to his senses and realize Ilya couldn’t give him what he really needed. For the first time since his childhood, Ilya thought about dying. Not killing himself, never that, but maybe somehow going to sleep and not waking up.

    Or, Beta Ilya Rozanov loves Omega Shane Hollander so much it hurts. A hit on the ice changes everything between them, but not the one thing that matters.

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    25 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “It’s okay. I don’t need anything.” 

    “I am not going to eat in front of you while you have nothing, Hollander,” Ilya scoffs. He plucks a can of cold ginger ale from the top shelf as casually as he can manage and slides it over the island, interrupting Hollander’s fidgeting thumbs. “You must be hungry, yes? It’s been hours since you left hotel. I can make something. Easy.” 

    “Make… what?” he asks warily.  

    Ilya rolls his eyes and tosses a look over his shoulder. “Do not worry. I will find something that works for your special hockey diet,” he teases. He reaches back into the fridge. “Tuna melt okay?” 

    “No,” Hollander says primly. “And it’s a disease. Not a diet.” 

    He pulls his hands out of the cold and turns, blinks. “What?” 

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    14 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane exhaled sharply. "You know," he murmured, voice thick, "my favorite ways are this..." he arched again beneath him, emphasizing the point. Ilya’s breath stutters faintly at the flush contact before steadying, adjusting his position so the pressure stays even, intentional, controlled. He lets the reaction exist without letting it take over. "And having something in my mouth." The admission bloomed between them, lazy and warm, the kind of truth that only surfaced when he was this pliant, this boneless beneath Ilya’s touch.

    Ilya’s fingers paused. "Something?" he echoed roughly. His thumb brushed the corner of Shane’s mouth, lingering. "Or someone?"

    Shane’s lips parted around a breathless laugh, catching Ilya’s thumb between his teeth for a brief, teasing nip. "Both I guess. Like my mouth guard, pen caps, hoodie strings…" His tongue darted out to soothe the spot he’d bitten. His hips shifted restlessly beneath Ilya’s weight, the movement deliberate. "Your fingers. Your cock. Just..." he swallowed thickly. "Just want to feel something there. For a while."

    or

    Shane and Ilya venture into cockwarming

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    20 Apr 2026