fic recs for Heated Rivalry

this is a side blog. there will be mostly explicit fics recommended here, so MDNI. the fics will be ones that I've personally read and really enjoyed

[prettyboyilyarozanov]

cliff marleau gets a ride.

haasleau | one shot | explicit | 4.4k.

Cliff watched him fucking himself, fascinated as the toy disappeared and reappeared. Luca truly was taking it so well; Cliff didn’t know if he himself would be able to ever do a thing like it. He’d always been less than keen about having things inside of him like that, preferring to be the one calling the shots. It was what made being with Luca so easy, his willingness to submit and be a bottom that was so eager to please. Cliff might not have been the smartest man on the planet, but he still wasn’t completely stupid. He knew that Luca sometimes liked to be on top, too, that he liked to sometimes top Shane. He loved it, all the same; he loved that his boyfriend could be so versatile. Maybe someday, Cliff would be brave enough to let Luca top him. But today was not that day. Tonight was not that night. Tonight, he wanted this. He wanted to see Luca toy with himself, to see him submit. That was all Cliff could ever ask for, after all.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Cliff said, his cock so hard it was painful. He wanted to stroke himself, but he also wanted to save it for Luca. “Look at you. Taking it like the champ you are.”

Luca’s cheeks flushed dark red and he ducked his head, some of his blond curls spilling into his eyes. “I am not a champ…”

“Bullshit you’re not,” Cliff said, watching as Luca pushed the toy even deeper. “You’re a star player. You won the Stanley Cup this summer. You can handle Roz, and every woman he’s ever fucked and Shane Hollander all know that isn’t easy. You’re a star, baby boy. Don’t ever think differently.”

read here

[hutsonwoolyums]

https://www.tumblr.com/bugslibraryy/819750048440221696/ok-shane-hollander-and-one-of-these-pillows-and

Hi baby love I bring this to your desk for your thoughts feelings and considerations!!! 💗💗💗

Ooooh bug I love that you brought this to my desk.

I’m thinking Ilya buys this when he falls prey to one of those targeted Instagram ads, and when it arrives Shane’s like baby, what the fuck? And Ilya’s like for you, when you sleep because Shane’s usually a deep sleeper but he does toss and turn sometimes like he can’t get settled and comfortable, and the lady in the picture looks so cozy cuddly warm Ilya’s heart kind of breaks thinking about his Shane like that, and Shane’s like I’m not using that because he prefers to cuddle with Ilya, thank you very much, but one night he’s restless and fussy and he knows if he keeps tossing and turning he’s going to wake up Ilya (Ilya calls him my little rotisserie chicken when this happens) so he grabs the pillow from the depths of the closet and oh, this is nice actually, he can just sink down into it and the pressure on his hips is gone and his arms don’t feel like they’re in the way anymore and he slips into sleep almost immediately, and then it becomes not a regular thing but something he pulls out on nights when the itch under his skin is too strong for him to sleep and Ilya starts calling it his spoon moon like, “want me to get your spoon moon, kotenok?” And Shane will flush and roll his eyes and mumble yes, and maybe Ilya sneaks and sprays it with his cologne every now and then because he loves how Shane breathes so deep when he’s asleep and cuddled up close to it. 

So THEN Ilya has to go out of town for some reason (hand waves, doesn’t matter what) and they’ll only be apart for three nights—they used to do months—but that was before they had every night together, before they’d fused together all the secret hidden parts under each other’s skin and it’s intolerable to think of three nights alone in their (suddenly hatefully big) bed, but Ilya calls Shane every day and Shane sleeps with the spoon moon every night, and Shane gets by well enough, keeps busy at their home with calls to his parents, to Rose, to Hayden, with foundation work, and workouts, and Anya, until it’s the last night of Ilya’s trip and Ilya calls him right as Shane is settling into bed (spoon moon waiting off to the side) and Shane’s hair is wet from a shower and he’s wearing his glasses and Ilya is only human, so of course the goodnight phone call becomes phone sex, and Ilya’s taking his time with it, just barely stroking over his cock while he talks Shane through opening himself up and sliding in one of his favorite butt plugs (I know, I know how you need it, sweetheart. gonna keep you nice and open for me, huh? So I can just fucking s-slide right in when I get home, yeah) and Shane is nodding and arching his back and showing off for Ilya, spreading his thighs so Ilya can see him stuffed full and aching for his big man to fuck him, and it always makes Ilya a bit crazy when Shane calls him that, so it’s not long before he’s hanging on by a thread, but Shane’s not there yet and he wants them to come together, a facsimile of what they’ll have when he gets home in the morning, but Shane can’t get there.

His grip is tight around his angry purple cock as he fucks his hips up into it, and he’s whining at every shift of the plug, and his fist is wet with pre-cum, but it’s not enough (I can’t, I can’t, Ilya I need you please) and his eyes start to prick with tears and not the good kind, and that just won’t do, so Ilya tells him to stop, stop everything, and it hurts to do but Shane pulls his hand away from his aching cock and then Ilya tells Shane to get the spoon moon and tuck up close and Shane doesn’t understand what good this will do but he’d do anything to come right now and Ilya’s voice sounds so confident and sexy when he’s in charge like this so Shane does it, gets all comfortable like he likes and rests the phone flat on the mattress by his head so he can feel like Ilya’s right there, and then Ilya’s voice is syrup as he tells Shane all about the fantasy that’s sustained him through each of the long lonely nights, how when he gets in from his early flight he’ll find Shane asleep and wrapped around the spoon moon just like he is now, and his perfect boy will be plugged up and ready, and all Ilya will have to do is slide up close, replace the plug with his cock and get Shane nice and full on the slow rock of his hips, not even pulling out much but just fucking in, in, in cause he knows how Shane needs it, how they both need it, after these days apart, how he’ll keep Shane on his cock like that for hours, and Shane can come as often as he likes but Ilya won’t pull out until he’s taken all he wants from his boy, and as he says it he makes Shane take out the plug and replace it with two fingers (just like that, sweetheart, you feel me? You feel how much I need you? Yeah yeah I feel it fuck, Ilya) and Shane gets three fingers in, then four, and oh fuck he feels so full and the soft pressure of the pillow is so nice against his oversensitive cock, and with Shane’s eyes closed it’s like Ilya’s all around him, fucking him just right, and giving Shane his thigh to rock against, and groaning sweet filth in his ear (yeah that’s right, that’s my good boy, just take what you need on my cock malysh fuck, it’s yours, it’s all yours), somehow all at the same time, and Shane’s nuzzling deep into the pillow because it’s soft and warm and smells like Ilya, and this time Shane’s tears are the good ones, just soft hiccups around endless stream of moans broken only by Ilya’s name as he ruts his cock against the pillow until his orgasm washes over him. 

[goodboylucahaas]

Luca tries so hard not to, but it's difficult to keep the tears from falling. He's on all fours sucking off Ilya. Behind him Cliff is pushing a dildo deeper into him. Luca had ordered it himself as a gift for Cliff to use on him. He terribly underestimated the measurements.

He was so intrigued by the dark blue and gold coloured swirls that match the collar Cliff gifted him, that he didn't check the scale chart.

He also didn't open the package when it arrived but put on his collar and a scarf over it and went directly to Cliff, unaware that Ilya was visiting. He demanded that Cliff opened the package on the spot. The man was taken by surprise as he found the very pretty coloured but massive fantasy dildo, resembling a werewolf cock.

"You're sure you can take this?" Cliff had asked unsure but extremely turned on at the thought. It's only then that Luca realised that the dildo was larger than what he expected and so was the knot.

"I... I will try..." Luca replied flustered and Cliff grinned widely.

"Hey Roz, change of plans!" he shouted into the living room.

Now Luca's trying to take it. Cliff opened him up as much as possible and used a generous amount of lube. At first it seemed to go in so easy but after maybe half the length it started to hurt.

Luca never minds the burning sensation that comes with a good stretch, he loves the sting, it makes his cock throb but this time it was a challenge. Eventually he manages to take the full length and he feels so full. Cliff moves the dildo inside him, pulls and pushes until Luca is a shivering, groaning mess.

As Cliff tries to get the knot in Luca cries out around Ilya's cock, making him almost come.

"Little puppy was to eager, da?" Ilya moans and looks at Luca who is so pretty with those teary eyes. Cliff adds more lube and tries to push the dildo some more but the sounds leaving Luca's stuffed mouth make him pause.

His puppy does have a safe word but he's stubborn and Cliff learned that the hard way once. He'd rather have an angry puppy at his hands than a seriously injured one.

"Luca? You're still alright?"

He gets an angry groan as reply.

"That doesn't do it." he says and pulls the dildo out completely. Luca whimpers at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He lets go of Ilya's cock and snarls at Cliff.

"Make it work!" After the tears and the whining around his cock, the brattiness is enough to send Ilya over the edge and he comes on Luca's face.

Luca looks disappointed at him. How did he end up with two empty holes?

"I'll make it up to you" Ilya chuckles and drags two fingers through his cum before he pushes them into Luca's mouth.

Cliff drops the dildo to the ground.

"Next time, puppy. Now it's my turn." he rasps and sinks himself deep into Luca.

(Go follow @prettyboyilyarozanov bc she's the reason I'm hornyposting. )

[fuckrozanov]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/85244826 hello can we all go read this together it's crazymaking good

omg ya this one is awesome AND inspired by one of my posts 😎 ilya is literally so nice

[lurkerdelima]

scream if you wanna go faster

3.7k | E | consensual non-consent, free use, dirty talk, pwp

“I just…wanted to know if you’d be interested in trying something. It’s totally okay if you’re not into the idea, obviously.”

Ilya’s ears perked up. He’d had some of the best sex of his life following basically those exact words. He rested his head on Shane’s shoulder, reaching over to take his hand. “Keep talking.”

“Well, we have another week here together, and I was thinking. What if you could, uh. Have sex with me whenever you wanted?” Shane asked quietly, turning his hand over in Ilya’s so they were palm to palm, lacing their fingers together. “And I couldn’t say no? Or I mean, I could say it, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Ilya inhaled sharply and lifted his head from Shane’s shoulder, studying him. He looked tense, but hopeful. Eager. “I would like that,” he enunciated carefully, squeezing Shane’s hand.

read on AO3

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

clandestine meetings & stolen stares - chapter thirty-two.

ilya rozanov x coach’s adult daughter reader/hollanov | multi-chapter | mature | 10.6k.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” he breathed, kissing down her jaw. “Moya devochka.”

She laughed softly, her arms winding around him as she held him close to her. “You’re making me melt. You know how I feel when you speak Russian.”

“Makes you weak, yes?” he asked. “Is cute. You are very cute, moya devochka.”

“I can’t help it,” she said. “You just have that effect on me. You don’t know the effect you have on me, though.”

“Yes,” he said, pulling back to look at her. “I might know. You are always coming back for more. Is not something you would do if I did not have effect on you.”

“Yeah,” she said, grinning at him. “Are you really okay, though? With all of this? With what happened?”

read here

[sheetedrivalry]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Heated Rivalry (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Luca Haas/Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau Characters: Luca Haas, Cliff Marlow | Cliff Marleau Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Past Rape/Non-con, original shitty ex boyfriend of Luca Haas (mentioned), Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, Repressed Memories, Cliff is a Teddy Bear, Overthinking, Panic Attacks, Age Difference Summary:

When Cliff accidentally triggers a memory of Luca’s shitty ex boyfriend they have to navigate the aftermath together.

[probablily]

need you

3.5k, E, Shane/Ilya, phone sex, orgasm denial

Shane: What are you doing right now? Lily: Out with team Lily: Did u see that goal I made? Shane: Yes Lily: Was very sexy ;) Lily: What r u doing right now? Shane slips another finger in, groaning. He imagines Rozanov, sitting at a booth or table with his team, phone angled away so nobody else could see his texts with 'Jane'. Rozanov's attention is electric, even from a distance. Shane wants to keep it. Shane: Touching myself ——— Shane so used to Rozanov telling him when come that's it's frustrating to get off without him. But just because Shane calls Rozanov, doesn't mean he's going to be very much help.

READ ON AO3

[hutsonwoolyums]

“Ilya, what is this?” Shane says with a laugh. “It’s not my birthday.” 

They’ve been celebrating Ilya all weekend. Shane made sure of that. First, Svetlana flew into town for dinner and drinks and dancing, and Ilya came home to Shane giddy and drunk on champagne. The next night was a low-key dinner at Yuna and David’s. David grilled steaks, Ilya won two hands of gin rummy, and at the end of the night, Shane’s cheeks hurt from smiling. And now it's the day Shane’s carved out for just the two of them. He’s made it clear to anyone who needs to know that he and Ilya will be off the grid. Incommunicado. Do not disturb. 

Except now Ilya’s not following Shane’s plan. Shane’s cleared away Ilya’s breakfast in bed, but Ilya’s not grabbing him and pulling him in for a kiss, or sliding a hand into Shane’s boxers to find where he’s stretched and open and ready for him. No, instead he’s turning away from Shane to reach into his bedside table and take out a small blue bag stuffed with tissue paper. Ilya presents it to Shane with a flourish and a glint in his eye. Inside the bag, Shane finds a nondescript box. And when Shane opens the box, bright metal shines back at him. 

“Ilya,” Shane says. His mouth feels dry around the word. His heart is pounding in his ears. “This is a, um—” 

“A cock cage, yes.” 

“Is it…is it for you?” Shane knows it’s not. 

Ilya chuckles. “No, moya lyubov."

“But I don’t…why?” Shane asks with a frown. Ilya loves Shane’s cock. After all these years, Shane is sure of that. He loves how it looks, how it tastes, how it twitches and drips in his hand, in his mouth, without even being touched. Shane looks at the cage and thinks about losing that, about not being able to give that to Ilya, and he’s not scared, he’s not, it’s just—

“Shane, sweetheart. Look at me, Shane.” Ilya’s voice is as firm as the hand on Shane’s chin, and Shane meets his eyes eagerly. He feels a bit lost, needs Ilya to find him and show him the way. Ilya’s eyes are warm and unyielding. He picks up the cage and dangles in front of Shane’s face.

“Read it, moya lyubov.”

Once it’s out of the box, Shane gets a better look. It really is beautiful. The shaft is all filigree metal, twisting and curling toward the tip, but interrupted over halfway down by a solid arching band that reads—

“Property of Ilya Rozanov,” Shane murmurs, barely a whisper. His whole body feels cold, then hot.

“Is true, yes?” Ilya says softly.

“Ilya,” and then Shane’s kissing him, open-mouthed and needy, and of course Ilya kisses him back, but he’s pulling back too soon, pressing gentle pecks to Shane’s mouth instead of taking him deeper. Shane whines and tries to pull him back in.

“Shhh, malysh, listen,” Ilya says, running soothing hands over Shane’s chest, the back of his neck. “You have to be soft for me to put it on, sweetheart.” His eyes flick down to where Shane’s started to chub up from a few quick kisses. “You will wear it for me, yes?” 

Shane takes a steadying breath. “Yes, Ilya.”

“Good boy.” 

It takes a few minutes for Shane to calm down enough to fit inside the cage. Ilya is all patience. He keeps Shane tucked into his neck and runs gentle hands along Shane’s back until his breath evens out and he goes soft all over. With quick fingers, he slips the cage over Shane’s cock and locks it into place. Shane’s pulse jumps as the click echoes in his ears. 

“Look, malysh. So beautiful.” 

Shane lifts his head from his hiding place in Ilya’s neck. Ilya’s hand looks huge next to his caged cock. Shane almost feels like he shouldn’t be looking, like it’s not his to look at anymore. The fit is snug but comfortable. From this angle, he can’t miss Ilya’s name stamped across the top. Shane twitches inside the cage. 

“Beautiful,” Shane echoes. It’s true, if inadequate. 

“Hmm, yes. Such a good gift for me.” Ilya teases his fingers along the metal swirls. Shane doesn’t know what to do. Ilya’s hand is on him, but he can hardly feel it. All he knows is firm metal around his cock, and Ilya. His name swims in front of Shane’s eyes and in his mind, Ilya Ilya Ilya. Shane whines and hides in Ilya’s neck again. Ilya’s answering chuckle rumbles in his chest. 

“No, no, sweetheart. Like this,” and then Ilya’s moving him just where he wants, head buried in the pillows, ass up and on display. From this position, the cage is a persistent tug on his cock that makes Shane whimper. Ilya answers with a groan, “So, so beautiful.” 

Shane knows Ilya’s close by, but his voice sounds far away. He thinks about how he must look to him, spread out and shaking, a caged cock hanging heavy between his thighs. His morning preparation is a distant memory until Ilya’s fingers find his hole, stretched open and ready for his cock. “Oh, such a good boy,” Ilya coos. 

“S’for you, Ilya,” Shane has trouble forming the words, but he needs Ilya to know. He did have a plan.

“Yeah? Got all stretched open for me, huh?” Shane registers the question but can’t find his voice to give an answer. He pushes his hips back instead, trying to fuck himself on Ilya’s searching fingers. The heavy cage resists the movement, and the answering pull makes Shane’s cock pulse. 

“Poor baby. This hungry hole’s been waiting all morning.” Shane whines and nods into the pillow. Without warning, Ilya spreads him open and licks into him with a groan. Shane might just die. His face is so hot, and his cock is so hard. Or he thinks it is. The cage is a tight, hot pressure wrapped around him, and Ilya’s tongue is a wet, hot pressure against his rim. Shane’s heart is pounding in his cock and his chest and his ears. It's so loud he almost misses the words tumbling from Ilya’s mouth. 

“Christ, you look so good, sweetheart. Got this cock all wrapped up for me, yeah? Keeping it so safe and locked up for me. Do you want me to touch it?” The words make tears prick in Shane’s eyes. He tries and fails to speak around the lump in his throat. Ilya gives the cage a small tug. “Answer me, Shane.” 

Shane draws in a shuddering breath. “Don’t—don’t want to choose. It’s not my cock, Ilya. S’yours.” He swallows hard as his tears start to fall. 

“Oh baby, you’re so good. Thank you.” Ilya says, and then his hands are tight on Shane’s hips and he’s pushing in, deep and hard and perfect. Shane melts into the mattress as Ilya fucks him. It’s a relief to have something to clench around. He’s desperate for a distraction from the unforgiving metal wrapped around his cock. Ilya holds nothing back. Shane feels him all the way down to his toes. Heat spreads from his balls to his cock and up into his stomach. It pushes more tears from his eyes, makes him cry out into the pillow beneath him.

Shane doesn’t understand what his body is doing. Distantly, he knows that if the cage weren't there, he would have come already. As it is, every fuck of Ilya’s hips jostles his caged cock, sending delicious aching shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body. His stomach and balls clench tighter and tighter as Ilya pounds his prostate on each stroke. All he can do is shake and sob and clench around Ilya’s cock. 

“Yeah, yeah, fucking hell, sweetheart. Gonna make you come, yeah?” Shane cries out at the thought. He can’t, he can’t. There’s no room, no space for him to let go in the confines of the cage. He’s helpless, trapped between the unrelenting pressure of the metal wrapped around him and Ilya fucking into him. For a wild moment he thinks he might never come again. Still, Ilya doesn’t let up.

“C’mon, I know you can give it to me. It’s my cock, yes? My cock and my choice, and I want to see it come. Be a good boy and let me have it, malysh.” And then Ilya’s pressing him even harder into the mattress, his hand tight on the back of Shane’s neck, and Shane’s body is burning, so hot it must be able to melt the metal. There’s no other way to explain the heat that washes over his cock as he lets go with a shout.

When Shane comes to, he's wrapped in Ilya’s arms, Ilya's voice in his ear telling him how lovely and good he is, how proud Ilya feels. He opens his eyes as Ilya asks, “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

Shane’s not sure how to answer. Sore. Wrung out. Remade. Instead, he burrows into Ilya’s shoulder and says, “Ilya, holy shit. How did you know I could—” 

“Come while wearing that?” He gestures to the cock cage sitting innocently on their bedside table. “It’s my birthday,” he says simply. “I knew you’d give me whatever I asked for.” 

[stilinscute]

out of curiosity

by stilinscute

chapter 4- never has Luca ever

___________________

Ilya claps, his eyes wild with delight as he cackles. “Is my turn, da?” He reaches for the bottle of vodka, gleefully fills Luca’s shot glass again. When he’s done, Ilya twists in his chair and squints at Luca.

Luca starts to squirm under Ilya’s intense investigation, and after several seconds Shane groans and throws his hands up into the air. “Stop torturing him, Ilya, and play the goddamn game.”

“Okay, Shanya, I will play the game.” Ilya replies, eyes still trained on Luca’s face. “Never has Luca ever…” Ilya’s stare flickers to Shane for a half of a second before flashing back to Luca’s. “Had a threesome.”

[tinylilhollander]

Birthdays have always been weird for Ilya.

On the one hand, it's one of the days he can most keenly feel the loss of his mom. He misses the way she would wake him up by pulling his ears – one tug for every year of his age – and then hand him his gift. He misses the way that she would always sneak him a second gift right before bed so that he wouldn't be sad about this birthday ending.

On the other hand, they're also a good reminder that life is better than it has been for a long time. Instead of the cold, perfunctory, "Happy Birthday, Ilya," he'd get from his father (if he was lucky), his team have always celebrated him. He's always had a pile of gifts left outside his locker to surprise him, he's always been taken out clubbing, never once having to buy a drink for himself.

His favourite thing has always been the happy birthday text he gets from Shane every year, going back to long before he was his boyfriend. He's never missed a single one, and they're a good encapsulation of how much their relationship had changed over the years:

Happy birthday.

Happy birthday Rozanov.

Happy birthday Rozanov.

Happy birthday Rozanov. 🎂

God knows if you'll actually get this, it's been literal fucking months, but for what it's worth, happy birthday. Hope you're okay.

Happy birthday Rozanov. 🎂🎉

Happy birthday Rozanov. Remind me to give you your 'gift' next time we're together. 😉

Happy birthday Ilya. I'll see you soon. Counting down the days. ❤️

On his first birthday as Shane Hollander's boyfriend, he finds that he's looking forward to waking up to this year's birthday text almost more than anything, and is disappointed when there isn't one. He figures Shane must just be busy and he'll text when he's finished with whatever he's got going on. Ilya carries on with his day, finishes his workout, showers, but still there's no text from Shane.

Now he's starting to panic. He's always gotten Shane's birthday messages first thing in the morning. Has something happened to him? He doesn't want to message in case it's nothing and he makes it sound like he's desperate for Shane's birthday message (as much as he kind of is), so he ends up scouring the news sites for any sign that something might have happened to him. There's nothing.

Feeling a little pit in his stomach at the idea that Shane might have forgotten his birthday in the first year of being his boyfriend, he makes his way to the living room, deciding that he'll watch the rest of the cup final that he and Shane were too busy sexting during to finish watching the night before. He's just sat down on the couch when he hears the knock on his door.

No way. Surely not?

But it is. There, right there, close enough to reach out for, is Shane, carrying an overnight bag, holding an enormous gift box, and wearing a slightly nervous smile.

"Surprise," he says. "This is for you. Happy birthday, Ilya."

Ilya takes the box from him, and leads Shane inside where he places it on the kitchen island and immediately turns, intending to crowd his boyfriend against the nearest window and kiss him to within an inch of his life.

Shane, however, puts his hands on his shoulders to stop him.

"Mom and Dad are here too," said Shane. "They're waiting in the car. They aren't staying the whole day, and I can tell them to leave now if you're not comfortable with them being here, but they wanted to celebrate with you. If you'd like. You said you didn't really have plans so I figured—"

And Ilya immediately changes tactics and hoists Shane up onto the island, pushing the gift further back on the counter as he kisses him to within an inch of his life.

"I thought you forgot," he says, feeling embarrassingly teary all of a sudden. "I thought you forgot or that you died or something. I was checking all the news sites."

"Oh, baby," says Shane, giving a small laugh and swooping in for another kiss, finally breaking apart to rest his forehead on Ilya's. "I would never forget something this important. And for what it's worth, I seem to be alive too."

A few minutes later, David and Yuna hand him a gift box that's just as big as the one Shane did, and another box that turns out to be a beautifully decorated birthday cake, that they share after lighting candles and singing to him. They tell him to make a wish as he blows the candles out and the only thing he can wish for is more of this forever. They spend the day talking, rewatching the finals, and making Ilya feel more loved than he can remember feeling for a long time.

Later, long after David and Yuna have left to catch their flight home, long after Shane and Ilya have spent several enjoyable hours completely wrecking Ilya's bed, while they're lying cuddled together just basking in the glow of how magical the day has been, Shane turns to Ilya, chews on his bottom lip, and then reaches out to tug Ilya's ear 27 times.

"Shane..." he says, voice choked, not sure what he wants to say, not sure if he can describe the scope of what today has meant to him. Shane's cheeks flush.

"Sorry, I read somewhere that was a tradition or something, but if it isn't and that was just the weirdest thing I've ever done to you, please, just for my sake, pretend it never happened?"

And Ilya kisses him. He kisses him long and slow and so full of all the gratitude he can't put into words. He's crying by the time they pull apart, unable to keep it together after the enormity of what the day has meant to him.

"I love you so much, Shane."

Shane presses a kiss to his chest, right over his heart, then another to his lips.

"I love you too, Ilya." He settles his head back down on Ilya's chest and they lie there in comfortable silence for a few moments before Shane speaks up again. "So that's a yes on the ear tugging?"

Ilya laughs.

"That's a yes on the ear tugging."

[luckylovelace]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Luca Haas/Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Luca Haas & Holmberg & LaPointe & Young Characters: Luca Haas, Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Ottawa Centaurs Team Ensemble (Game Changers), Luca Haas’s Mother, Luca Haas’s Father, Anya | Ilya Rozanov’s Dog, Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Married Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Luca Haas Needs a Hug, Luca Haas Has a Crush, POV Third Person Limited, Polyamory, Power Dynamics, Explicit Sexual Content, Dom/sub Undertones, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pet Play, This Grew A Plot, Softer than intended, Everything is Beautiful but Sometimes it Hurts, Longing for a home that never existed, Unreliable Narrator Summary:

Luca Haas is both talented and driven, a lethal combination if he can get out of his own head long enough to realize the potential everyone around him seems to see.

However, nothing is working.

Maybe his captains can help?

@prettyboyilyarozanov as promised! This work wouldn’t exist without you, so thanks for being horny and unhinged. It’s been very inspiring. (No smut so far, these boys demanded plot first…)

[lurkerdelima]

hey so I’ve been working on my free use/dubcon WIP

somewhat nsfw preview under the cut 😇

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

clandestine meetings & stolen stares - chapter thirty-one.

ilya rozanov x coach’s adult daughter reader/hollanov | multi-chapter | explicit | 10.7k.

chapter warnings: mmf threesome, oral sex (f & m receiving), vaginal fingering, eiffel tower, food, getting caught

Ilya continued to look at her, holding her jaw with one hand as the other remained tangled in her hair. “Do you want that, solnyshka? Do you want to be full of cum in two holes, like the cum slut you are? Cock makes you dumb, yes?”

She blinked in response and pushed back against Marleau, which didn’t give Ilya much depth. He grabbed her head and forced her back down, causing her to moan and whimper around him. Ilya began to thrust hard into her mouth, holding her in place with both hands tangled in her hair. His thrusts matched Marleau’s, sliding his cock down her throat with every movement inward. She apparently had gotten her gag reflex under control, because she was no longer choking as he moved in & out of her throat. He smiled down at her and ran his finger down her cheek, before putting it back in her hair. Her cheeks hollowed even more and she kept moaning around him, adding more vibration as Marleau pounded into her. Marleau had both hands on her hips, holding her steady, keeping himself braced as he moved inside of her again & again. Ilya could tell that he was hitting against her sweet spot, just by the way she was moaning, by the way Marleau was groaning as she, by Ilya’s estimation, got more wet around Marleau’s cock. Ilya’s own twitched against her tongue, his balls getting tighter, signaling that he was very close. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to last, not at the rate they were going.

Ilya kept going, though, pushing himself deeper & deeper into her mouth. She didn’t protest, she didn’t signal that it was too much. All she did was sit there and take everything she was being given. It was so hot to Ilya that he had to resist the urge not to cum immediately. Judging by the way his cock was twitching, though, he knew it wasn’t going to be long. He wanted Marleau to cum first, but Ilya thought that maybe that was a losing battle. Or maybe, somehow, they could cum at the same time. That would be ideal, but Ilya wasn’t sure if they’d be able to pull that off. He could maybe time it perfectly, but one look at Marleau told him that the other man wasn’t going to last too much longer himself. Ilya groaned and pushed himself deeper into her throat, holding her down without moving as she moaned softly against him. He stroked her hair, his hands moving through it as he pushed her further down.

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[shanehollandercloaca]

hello folks please take this little blurb of shane suckin on that thaaaaangggg while ilya is on the game with cliff okay? yayyy

Shane’s not sure exactly what game Ilya is playing. He can tell from the mashing of buttons and the raucous yelling Ilya is forcing down the shitty mic of his ironically rather expensive headset that it’s something involving shooting, and that he’s playing with Marly, based on the frustrated grumbling that floats down to Shane’s ears every now and then. Shane–who would usually be fondly annoyed at the melodrama that his husband puts on just to play some FPS with his best friend–can’t find it within himself to pay much attention right now, not when he’s floating in that fuzzy headspace that only comes when Shane is left to sit absolutely still with only the weight of Ilya’s cock in his mouth to sate him.

If one were to ask Shane how that headspace felt (which no one would, except Ilya–though they both got distracted and hard and forgot to elaborate on it before Shane could say all too much about it beyond how good it felt), he might privately liken it to an athlete’s high–that point of straining and exhausting your body enough that it circles back around and starts to feel like a rush; the wave of satisfaction and precious, rewarding hormones that keeps your mind pleasantly blank and the ache in your muscles a prize worthy of pushing yourself past the competition. Not that Shane had any competition in sucking his husband’s dick–he had that locked down, unless you count the growing ache in his knees, even through the pillow Ilya had made sure to place between his legs for Shane to kneel on.

He knows he’s not supposed to move. He doesn’t want to move, wants to be a good boy and do what Ilya told him, wants to win this challenge he’s set himself to doing, but he can’t help himself. 

He shifts, just a tiny bit, to take some of the weight off the aching parts of his knees. The soaked-through, skin-tight fabric of his shorts shifts too, just enough to give Shane the first brush of friction that he’d felt in what could have been an hour or ten. Shane moans, unbidden, around the thick length of Ilya’s cock. A hand grabs Shane’s hair and yanks. Thick, wet lines of drool strand from Shane’s reddened lips to where he’d been holding steady. They snap when his head is forced up to look at Ilya from under the desk. A voice rumbles through the slightly crooked speakers of Ilya’s headset.

He tuts, putting on a disappointed look. “Yes, Marly, I know we’re going to lose now. Sorry, someone is too desperate for my cock to let me focus on the game.” He gives Shane’s head a little shake, frowning–though Shane can see the mischievous glimmer in his eye. Marly must’ve said something because Ilya continues, looking at Shane but pointedly not speaking to him. “You would not have done anything differently, you liar. Fuck, you should see him, Marly, drooling all over himself and dripping wet just from tasting my cock.”

It’s stupid. It sounds stupid. Shane knows he should be offended by how Ilya is talking about him like he isn’t there, like it wasn’t Ilya who had put him there, knows he should laugh at how much effort Ilya is putting into this conjured persona of his. He’s not. His ignored cock drools almost as much as his mouth was, twitching in the cruel confines of his shorts. The pull on his scalp feels like it’s sending shocks right through his head to his dick.

His hungry mouth feels so, so empty. Shane wants.

[stillnotmollified]

haasollanov ficlet: let me show you how to do this

Ilya has been inside Luca Haas for all of a minute when the kid starts crying on his cock. 

After-dinner drinks had escalated more quickly than Shane anticipated. He’d no sooner brushed a hand across Luca’s thigh and suggested that perhaps he could mold him into the next Shane Hollander—not just on the ice, but in the bedroom—when Luca surged forward and kissed him. Please, Shane, please teach me, Luca had panted into his open mouth, high and needy, like the poor puck bunnies that used to throw themselves at him in the before.

If you want me to teach you, Shane had said, you’ll need to call me Mr. Hollander. 

Luca had obliged. Ilya looked like he was going to come on the spot. They hadn’t made it to the bedroom. 

Now Luca is on all fours on their living room rug and Ilya is pounding into him hard enough that his sculpted arms look like they’ll give out beneath him. He’s gone from whimpering to keening to straight-up sobbing faster than he can say fuck me, Captain—which he has been, loudly and repeatedly.

It’s a little bit like listening to a recording of himself when he was younger, and it’s got Shane leaking in his jeans, but Luca doesn’t need to know that right now.

“I thought you wanted to be like me, Haas.” Shane kneels and tangles his fingers in Luca’s cornsilk hair. When he doesn’t respond, apparently too drunk on Ilya’s cock to care (and Shane gets it, he really does), Shane tugs sharply until their eyes meet and their lips are centimeters apart.

“I do,” Luca gasps. His cheeks—still so round with baby fat in a way that makes him look unbearably vulnerable—are dripping with tears Shane wants to chase with his tongue. “I do, Mr. Hollander, please.” 

Fuck, Ilya mouths.

“You think I cry like a little bitch when my husband fucks me?”

Ilya raises an eyebrow at him, which Shane chooses to ignore.

Luca shakes his head just as Ilya’s hips snap forward in another punishing thrust, filling the room with the filthy slap of skin on skin. 

“N-no, Mr. Hollander.”

The kid’s body lurches forward and his face collides with Shane’s chest, leaving an unfortunate smear of sweat on his t-shirt. He peels it off with careful fingers and tosses it aside.

“Oh, fuck,” Luca moans. “Look at you.”

“Really, Haas,” Shane says, tutting even as his chest swells. It’s not like Luca hasn’t seen him in the locker room, but now the kid’s eyes are saucers, the way his own must’ve been the first time he’d seen Ilya’s pecs. He drags a thumb through the tear track on Luca’s cheek before sucking it into his mouth. It only makes Luca keen harder.  “Listen to yourself. You sound pathetic. You’ll never be like me at this rate.”

Despite being balls deep in his rookie’s ass, Ilya manages to huff out a laugh that he tries to cover with a groan. Just for that, Shane vows to get cum in his eyes later tonight. 

“Please teach me.” Luca’s voice cracks. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Oh, I know you will,” Shane says. He realizes as he says it that the situation is beyond inappropriate, but his husband looks blissed the fuck out and his own cock is dripping steadily and he can’t bring himself to care right now. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? So fucking desperate for it. No self-respect. Little slut.” He pets Luca’s hair just like he does Anya’s fur; there is something hopelessly puppyish about the boy. “If you want to improve, you have to admit where you’re falling short, yeah?”

“Yes, Mr. Hollander.” Luca can barely get the words out. Ilya’s every thrust seems to knock the air from his lungs; his mouth drops open on a long whine as Ilya fucks him mercilessly. “I’m a—I’m a little bitch. I’m pathetic and desperate and—oh, God.” Luca chokes on a moan. “I’m a slut. Your slut. Captain’s slut.”

Well, fuck. It’s a little like looking in a mirror, isn’t it?

“That’s right, Haas. Good boy.” Shane glances up at Ilya. His husband’s eyes are molten, his lower lip caught between his teeth like he’s trying to hold back a moan. “But you’re lucky. You know why?”

“Uh-uh,” Luca says, breathless.

“I said I’d be your teacher, and I meant it.” Shane cups Luca’s face, fingers digging into the fat of his cheeks. He pinches them together just hard enough to make the kid wince. “I’m going to let my husband fuck you until you learn to take his cock properly.” 

Luca moans. Good. Shane is being awfully generous.

“You’ll never be as good as me, of course,” Shane says lightly, and Luca looks up at him, eyes wide and wet. His lower lip trembles. It’s pathetic in a way that makes Shane’s cock throb in his jeans. “But I’ll get you so close, Haas. Almost as good as me.” 

Shane kisses him, plunging his tongue between Luca’s lips and savoring the whimper that escapes, and then Ilya does moan, long and low in a way that sends heat knifing through Shane’s belly. His relentless thrusts keep knocking their teeth together until Shane finally pulls away.

Luca gapes at him like he’s a God, and to Luca, Shane supposes, he is. He really should discourage that sort of thing—it’s not good for the team to have a hierarchy—but his dick likes it too much. 

“You should thank Mr. Hollander, Haasy,” Ilya says through clenched teeth as he switches to a slow, dirty grind. “You are lucky to have such good teacher.”

“Thank you.” Luca’s response is immediate. Shane isn’t going to tell him so, but the way the kid takes orders from Ilya is, of course, all too familiar. “Fuck, thank you, Mr. Hollander—oh my God. Right there, yes, don’t stop.”  

It all crystallizes for him, then. Ilya taught him everything he knows. It had been unbearably sexy, and Shane wouldn’t have changed a thing. But apparently some part of him has been waiting for his turn. To teach. To correct. To watch someone absorb his every word like it’s gospel.

“You really want to thank me, Haas?” Shane asks. 

Luca nods frantically. “Uh-huh.”

“Then let’s find a better use for that mouth,” Shane says, and pulls out his cock. “Let me show you how to do this.” 

--- 

Later, when Luca has collapsed onto his stomach and come is dripping from his ass and off his nose, Ilya breaks the silence. 

“Is okay, Haasy. Shane cries like little bitch when I fuck him, too.”  

“Take it back, Rozanov!” Shane lunges for him and they topple onto the couch.

From somewhere on the floor comes a small, exhausted voice.

“Oh, no.”

Shane freezes mid-tickle.

“This is so terrible,” Luca murmurs. “My dads are fighting.”

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

clandestine meetings & stolen stares - chapter thirty.

ilya rozanov x coach’s adult daughter reader/hollanov | multi-chapter | explicit | 10.9k.

chapter warnings: mentions of parent death, facetime sex, masturbation, drinking, unprotected sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), desperate sex, choking (slight), vaginal fingering

“Put it in your mouth,” he said. “Suck on it. Show me that you want it, malyshka.”

Opening her mouth, she pushed the toy in and took it down her throat as far as she could. He watched her with a soft curse, his lips parting as he watched her taking it in. He smirked at her, his eyes scanning over her body as she hollowed her cheeks around the toy. He trailed his fingers down his own body, ghosting them against his cock as he hissed softly. He loved her so much, loved watching her do this, and he could not take his eyes off of her. God, she was so perfect. He loved her so much, so damn much. It was perfect and he loved her more than anything else. There wasn’t anything she could say or do that would ever make him stray from her. She could do the worst thing in the world and he would still love her. She could call him every bad name in the book and he would still love her. Fuck, he was in so deep. He was in deep and he didn’t even care.

“Good girl,” he said. “Fuck yourself with it now.”

She moved it out of her mouth, removing it with a soft pop. Running it between her breasts again made him shiver, and then she was lowering it between her legs. She pushed it inside of her with a hot moan, her back arching and her feet moving against the bed. He watched as she pushed it in completely, the rabbit ears settling against her clit. She didn’t turn it on yet, but that was good. He wanted her to squirm a little before she turned it on, wanted to see her work for it before she made herself cum with the vibrations. Her hand worked the toy in and out of her cunt, curses falling from her lips as she fucked herself on it. His hand was resting just above his cock, a hair away from touching himself. God, he wanted to touch himself so badly, but he knew he had to pace himself. She was just getting started; he wanted it to last far longer than it would have if he started then.

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