Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Additional Tags:

Magical Pussy Acqusition, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virginity Roleplay, Breeding Kink, Hung Shane Hollander Agenda, Ilya Rozanov Has a Vagina, Come Eating, Scratching

Language:

English

Series:

Part 3 of Shane Hollander and the Magical Pussy Curse

Stats:

Published: 2026-08-17 Words: 3,758 Chapters: 1/1

your flesh and bone welcome me in

Summary

Shane leveled a glare at Ilya. “You should’ve told me earlier. We could’ve… rescheduled.”
Even as he said it, Shane knew he didn’t mean it. Tomorrow was their only shared day off for 29 days, an absurdly long time. Neither of them wanted to be anywhere but right here.
Ilya scoffed. “No. I’ve been waiting all day to fuck you just like this.”
Shane swallowed. His mouth was suddenly very dry. “You have?”

Or; Ilyapussy

Notes

I feel like I've been working on this for one william years... but it's finally here! Please enjoy my hollanov ilyapussy fic :)

MASSIVE thank you to my dear dear friend Mika for betaing and reminding me that just because you've gone cross-eyed staring at the same fic for three months does not mean it's bad.

Title is from Vore by Sleep Token

Ottawa, Ontario — November 2020

Shane sat in Ilya’s living room watching post-game coverage—two loud announcers over top of Ottawa and New Jersey flicking shots at each other’s goals, searching for the first point of the game. He’d planned his drive from Montreal to arrive at his boyfriend’s house around the end of the third, when he’d thought the game would be over in regulation and Ilya wouldn’t be too far behind. Now, he was getting tired. Luca Haas, a promising rookie, scored in the seventh shootout round, and their coach had parked Ilya next to him for the litany of interviews to keep Haas from spooking at the number of cameras in his face. 

Ilya’s game had been off. The finer details likely weren’t noticeable to anyone but Shane, but the stadium had been shocked Ilya hadn’t been able to end the shootout in the third round. Something was up. The house wasn’t any indication, not really. Ilya had left a towel in a crumpled pile on the bathroom floor instead of hanging it to dry (which Shane put in the laundry after a few exploratory sniffs) and the bed was unmade (which Shane made, also after a deep breath of Ilya’s pillow), but neither of those things were particularly out of character. He wanted to text Ilya about it, but knew he’d figure it out soon enough.

The moment Ilya shut his garage door behind him, Shane pounced. After sixteen and a half days without Ilya, Shane instantly melted at the curve of Ilya’s mouth against his lips. 

“Hi,” whispered Ilya, dropping his bag to the floor. 

Shane was too busy pulling off Ilya’s coat to respond. Too much separating them. Coat, suit jacket, button-down, undershirt. 

“Eager today,” Ilya said as he pulled off Shane’s t-shirt. 

“Missed you,” Shane replied into the curve of Ilya’s neck, kissing the memorized spot of each mole with his eyes closed.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

Ilya kicked off his shoes and walked Shane backwards to his bedroom. The instant they were in the room Shane dropped to his knees, dragging Ilya’s trousers and boxers down with him. Mouth open, ready, he looked up and—

And Ilya’s cock, the cock had been dreaming of for weeks, the cock he was made for, was gone. Shane was so surprised he fell back on his ass on the floor. 

Ilya, of course, found this absolutely hilarious. “I know you’ve seen a pussy before Shane, don’t be so afraid.”

“Y-you have the curse. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I don’t know if you remember, but the second I got home my mouth was busy.”

“What about this morning? I assume you woke up like this? Fuck, I knew your game was off tonight.”

Ilya cocked an eyebrow. “Off? We won.”

“But you missed your shootout shot. You wouldn’t normally.”

“Marshall is a good goalie.”

Shane leveled a glare at him. “You should’ve told me earlier. We could’ve… rescheduled.”

Even as he said it, Shane knew he didn’t mean it. Tomorrow was their only shared day off for 29 days, an absurdly long time. Neither of them wanted to be anywhere but right here.

Ilya scoffed. “No. I’ve been waiting all day to fuck you just like this.”

Shane swallowed. His mouth was suddenly very dry. “You have?”

Ilya looked down at him, ran the backs of his fingers along Shane’s burning cheek. 

“Of course. Got ready by watching all your sexy ads, reading people’s horny comments. Very good motivator to win games knowing I come home to the person everyone on the internet wishes they could have."

“Don’t tell me you actually read all those comments,” groaned Shane. He’d seen a few of them, top comments on Instagram and Twitter posts he was contractually obligated to interact with in some manner. Some of it was kind of funny, some of it made him wish he could just block anybody he wanted without making a public statement. 

“You give them so much reason to post them. Wet and mostly naked for soda and underwear and cologne. ‘Oh, I need him to bend me over.’” Ilya cooed, placing his fists under his chin. “‘He could fuck me until the bed breaks.’  Have you never seen what they say about your cock?”

“No, and I don’t want to know.”

Ilya picked Shane up by the armpits and shoved him on the bed.

“They say you are hung. Big dick Shane Hollander. Fattest cock in MLH.”

When Ilya climbed on top of Shane to lick into his waiting mouth, the wet heat of his cunt grinding on Shane’s cock through his sweatpants made Shane gasp. 

“I don’t know if I can fuck you like you want it,” Shane muttered into the kiss.

“Yes, it’s too bad you have no idea what to do with such a perfect cock. But you have fucked me before.”

“I was gagged, tied to the bed, and you used me like a dildo.”

“And you loved it.”

Ilya ground his hips down on loved, relishing in his boyfriend’s hitched breath. With one last filthy kiss, he climbed up the length of Shane’s body, hovering over his face. 

“I know it’s scary for you to be anything but an obedient little hole, but your boyfriend is nice. I won’t make you do anything scary. You just lay there and do what you’re told. Now make me come.”

Oh, there was not a thing in the world like Shane Hollander’s eyes. So many different emotions flashed like jewels catching the light as he realized there was no escape here. Those beautiful brown eyes finally settled into one of Ilya’s favorites—determination—when he lowered his hips the rest of the way to Shane’s waiting mouth. 

Shane wasn’t exactly experienced with eating pussy, but he didn’t hate it. More importantly, this was still Ilya. His cock was just different now. He leaned into how Ilya liked him to suck on the head, licking tight circles and just barely teething at Ilya’s clit. Ilya wasn’t one to leak too much precum, so the wetness was both new and pleasant. He tasted different—less bitter—but somehow still the same. Shane’s hands came up, digging his nails into the meat of his boyfriend’s thick thighs, and he drank in the extra layer the delicate note of pain added to Ilya’s hiss of pleasure. Those perfect thighs clenched a little tighter around Shane’s head. 

“There you go,” called Ilya from miles above, placing his hands on top of Shane’s. “So good for me. Not even touching yourself.”

Shane groaned into Ilya’s pussy, ground his own thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure. The hardon he’d lost the second he fell back on his ass in surprise was back stronger than ever as the sound of Ilya moaning loudly broke through the soundproofing of his thighs around Shane’s ears. He was glad he’d jerked himself off quickly in the shower before Ilya arrived home. Ilya wasn’t often one for being loud, but Shane couldn’t get enough every time Ilya let himself moan and gasp like he did now. 

With renewed vigor he licked a hot stripe through Ilya’s folds and sucked hard on his clit, focusing on anything that got a strong reaction. Ilya’s thighs trembled when he came, fisting up Shane’s hair in one hand.

Panting hard, Ilya lifted his hips enough for Shane to get a full breath. The lower half of his face shone with slick, and Ilya nearly came again just watching his boyfriend lap up what he could around his mouth with his tongue. A wild lust gleamed in Shane’s eye, and he seemed incapable of looking away from Ilya’s pussy. 

“See, I know you can do it.”

“I can do better. Let me do it again.”

Ilya raised an eyebrow. “Are you—“

“Please, Ilya. Let me keep going.” 

With a wide grin, Ilya sank back down. Shane’s hands immediately dug into the meat of his ass, and before Ilya knew it he was on his back with Shane devouring him. One of Shane’s hands pressed firmly to his stomach, pinning him in place, and the other slid two fingers deep into his pussy. 

“Fuck!” Ilya shouted.

Shane curled his fingers sharply, drunk on the high, keening moans escaping his boyfriend’s throat. Again and again he chased the sound of Ilya’s pleasure until he found it, hungrily lapping up the gush of fluid dripping down his chin as Ilya shook like a leaf beneath his touch. 

It was then, seeing Ilya’s flushed face and heaving chest and blown pupils that Shane realized he did in fact want to fuck him. That Ilya was asking for Shane to trust that he knew best. This is what Ilya wanted; of course Shane wanted it too. None of Shane’s prior experiences had been this: tangled up with his boyfriend with whom he wanted nothing more than to grow old.

Shane crawled up to lick into Ilya’s mouth, and the rumble of pleasure in Ilya’s chest sent a hot spike of need right to his dick. He got a little closer, until the hard line of his cock ground against Ilya’s pussy. With how soaked they both were already, there was a good chance his joggers wouldn’t make it. 

“I want to fuck you.”

Ilya smiled so wide Shane almost thought he’d made some kind of joke. He kissed Shane with a ferocious passion before sitting them both up, shoving Shane into the mattress so he could finally undress him, yanking down his joggers and briefs until Shane’s cock slapped against his bare stomach. 

“I wish you hadn’t kept this from me,” Shane grumbled as Ilya climbed back on top of him to straddle his thighs, unable to let himself sink into the moment until this last thing was off his mind. 

Ilya’s eyes softened, like he knew this was still on Shane’s mind. He cupped Shane’s cheek, brushing his thumb gently across his top lip.

“I know. And I am sorry. But I thought, what’s worse? You surprised now, or you spending all day overthinking? I will tell you next time. I promise.”

It was the exact balm Shane needed, the anchoring weight of Ilya knowing what Shane’s reaction would be to help him weather the discomfort of the sudden change. On the other side of the storm, he was more ready than ever. 

“I love you,” he whispered through what could easily become tears if his attention wasn’t being pulled down to where Ilya sat in his lap. 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Ilya replied, diving in for a kiss and biting down on Shane’s lower lip. His hips shifted, sliding his cunt up the length of Shane’s leaking cock until he sighed sweetly. 

“You’re really excited about this.”

Another supernova-bright grin as Ilya hitched himself up. “Of course I’m excited. Fattest cock in MLH is about to put a baby in me.”

Something in Shane’s brain short-circuited. 

They’d played this game before, Ilya fucking Shane deep into his mattress and muttering in his ear that he’d look so, so perfect stuffed full of babies. It was hot in the same way everything Ilya ever said to him was hot, but there was always a tiny part of Shane’s brain that wouldn’t let him get into it. Never mind the actual reason it wouldn’t (couldn’t) happen, the little voice always said that getting pregnant would ruin his hockey career, would send his life down a track he wouldn’t come back from. What would he be without hockey? A parent, he guessed, in that world. No. God, no.

But Ilya? The thought of fucking his cum deep into Ilya for as long as he could to make sure it took, his body swelling and changing to better carry Shane’s baby… Shane bit his tongue hard to keep from coming at that thought alone. 

“O-oh fuck…”

Ilya’s hips descended slowly, working each inch of Shane’s cock inside. Holy shit he was so tight and wet and hot. Shane’s world shrunk to just this moment, eyes glued to the spot where they connected, where he disappeared inside of Ilya. He understood in that moment why Ilya loved this so much, watching his cock pull in and out of Shane’s ass. Ilya’s head tipped back in a blissed out groan. 

“I can see why you love getting your pussy fucked so much,” said Ilya once his hips were firmly pressed to Shane’s, grinding little circles for extra friction on his clit. 

“What do you mean?” Shane asked. “You haven’t—?”

Ilya shook his head, shifted his hips again. “No, is first time for me. Cliff only did hands and mouth when I had it before.”

“Cl—like Cliff fucking Marleau?“

Ilya shrugged. “He would help anyone who had it, but he didn’t get his dick anywhere near me. He is quick shot like you.”

“Oh fuck you, I’m not—“

“You are f—“ Ilya interrupted. 

“Shut up, oh my god!” Shane tried to make it sound mean, but couldn’t help laughing. “You really haven’t ever been fucked?”

“Nope,” Ilya replied, popping the p. “Saved my pussy virginity just for you.”

He leaned in for another kiss to swallow down Shane’s gasping moan, digging his fingers into the meat of Shane’s pecs. Every new shift of Ilya’s hips choked a breathy moan from Shane, so caught up in the moment that when Ilya finally pulled back from their kiss he was only somewhat aware of the pathetic whine he let out. 

“You are… very big,” Ilya said, propping himself up with his palms behind him on Shane’s thighs. He shook his hips in a few agonizingly slow circles. “But it’s not very nice, me doing all the work.”

Shane barely realized that he’d been so enraptured watching Ilya fuck himself on his cock he couldn’t bear to think of anything else, do anything but watch. His hands lay limply at his sides, fingers twitching.

“You know, if I don’t come I won’t get pregnant. It’s like you don’t even want it.”

Shane wasn’t ignorant enough to think that was true, but his hands firmly gripped Ilya’s hips anyway. He booted the embarrassment from the driver’s seat, dropped hard into the feeling of Ilya’s cunt squeezing his cock and the sight of his blown pupils. 

“No, please. I want it to take,” he panted. “We’ve—we’ve both waited so long for this. For me to take your virginity.”

Ilya’s eyes lit up with delight, always more in love than ever when Shane played along.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Well…” Ilya lifted one of Shane’s hands up to his lips and sucked the thumb deep into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the digit like it would when he sucked Shane’s dick, even hollowing his cheeks before pulling out the spit-soaked finger. 

“You have to touch my clit.” 

Sitting back a little further, Ilya’s swollen clit stood out below the little patch of curly blond pubes. His head dipped back in a sweet sigh the moment he placed Shane’s thumb over the bud. 

“Do you need to come when I do for it to work?”

Ilya thought about it for a second. “Together is romantic but… after is better, probably. So I’m already all full.”

Shane sucked in a breath through his teeth. He wanted to drag this out as long as possible but he was already running through the list of Stanley Cup winners on odd-numbered years backwards in a vain attempt to delay the speeding train that was his impending orgasm. 

Ilya’s cheeks were pink, and the light flush was starting to spread down his neck to his collarbone. The gentle light from the bedside lamp shone off Ilya’s cross. He looked perfect. 

“I’m not gonna last,” Shane whimpered. “Fuck, Ilya, you’re so hot.”

“It’s okay, just fuck me.”

With his free hand, Shane grabbed the back of Ilya’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss, working into a rhythm that sent bright bolts of pleasure through his entire body with each thrust up into Ilya. This was nothing like any sex he’d ever had in the past, completely in his own head and miserable and barely able to stay hard long enough to do anything significant. This was a revelation. As Ilya gasped and moaned into his mouth, Shane felt like he could do anything—lift a car, walk on water. Ilya’s fingers tangled up in his hair, anchoring him. His cross kept slapping against his chest. He wanted to come so badly, knew he could whenever he wanted, but there was nothing he wanted more in this moment than to feel Ilya for as long as he could.

Ilya shifted back again, fingers still tight in Shane’s hair. He tilted Shane’s head just enough so he was looking at his thumb on Ilya’s clit instead of at his face. 

“Do you feel it?” He asked, moving Shane’s hand up to press firmly into the taught skin of his belly. “How deep you are inside me? Where our baby will sit?”

Ilya squeezed hard around Shane’s cock and for just a second he could feel it and—fuck, he was gone. 

Shane’s favorite part of Ilya fucking him raw was this moment, feeling the warm rush inside him, knowing Ilya was marking him as his. He could tell from the way Ilya gasped and moaned that he loved it too. But they weren’t done yet.

Ilya wasn’t quite sure how he was on his back again, Shane above him staring down and panting like a beast in heat. All his hard work coaching Shane through the overstimulation of multiple orgasms in a row was paying off pricelessly. He’d already come, but Ilya had said he needed to come again after Shane did, and that was all that mattered to him. Ilya loved him so, so much like this—big brown eyes almost completely black with how blown out his pupils were, his entire body flushed and quaking from exertion.

“Mine,” Shane murmured into the crook of Ilya’s neck, sucking mark after mark into the tender skin. Ilya felt teeth and his whole body lit up. “All fucking mine—can’t wait to knock you up. So perfect for me.”

Ilya came hard, clawing at Shane’s back. He felt wrung out, sore from tonight’s game and thoroughly fucked in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. Shane’s heavy body collapsed on top of him, and they lay for a long time, Ilya breathing in the scent of Shane’s hair and running his fingers over the marks he’d left on Shane’s back. Shane hadn’t even pulled out, and every so often he’d shift his hips, fucking Ilya a little bit more.

“First time good?” Shane asked, looking up at Ilya through his eyelashes. 

“Perfect,” Ilya replied.

Shane hoisted himself up on his elbow to plant a kiss on Ilya’s lips.

“Did Cliff Marleau, straightest man I’ve ever seen, really do ‘hand and mouth stuff’ with you?”

Ilya grinned. “There’s not someone like that on the Metros? Someone who wants pussy so bad he’ll get it anywhere?”

“No way.” When all Ilya did was shrug, Shane asked: “Did you like it?”

“Sure, was good. I came four times and pretended it was you.”

Shane got that adorable scrunched up smile, just a peek of teeth showing. “Really? Me?”

“Yes, of course you, Shane. We’ve established I am crazy for you and have been for a long time.”

“But, you only came three times just now. I’m not getting outdone by Cliff Marleau.”

“It’s not a competition,” Ilya said, knowing full well how Shane would take that.

Shane finally pulled out, settling back on his heels. He was half-hard already, and as Ilya pressed down on his stomach so a splurt of Shane’s cum slipped from Ilya’s soaked cunt he swallowed so hard his throat hurt. Before it could drip on the mattress, Shane scooped it up with two fingers and fucked them deep into Ilya’s pussy. 

“Don’t waste it. Or you won’t get pregnant.”

Ilya groaned, tilting up his hips as Shane pressed a third finger in, curling them against his inner walls. Shane leaned down to run his tongue against Ilya’s clit until the dam broke, and Ilya came with a gasp.

As Ilya came down, he realized that Shane’s fingers were still inside him. It wasn’t until the fourth finger on Shane’s massive hand joined the others in fucking Ilya open that he understood that Shane wouldn’t stop until he had surpassed Cliff.

“Oh, fuck, Shane I can’t—”

“Last time I had it you made me come like fifteen times, you can handle it. Breathe.”

Ilya was keening like a wounded animal, panting so hard he was drooling out the corner of his mouth, but he tried desperately to take a deep breath. It was what he would’ve told Shane to do. 

“Your fingers are so big.”

“Yes,” Shane breathed, clearly so turned on it was an effort to talk. “You’re taking them so well. Don’t worry, baby, it’ll take after this.”

Shane did something with his hand that Ilya could only feel as white hot pleasure in every nerve, and when he kissed Ilya’s clit and then sucked it between his lips with all the force he could muster, Ilya couldn’t help but scream. His back arched up off the bed, crushing his cunt further onto Shane’s tongue until he crashed back down to earth. Shane was panting hard too, until he lifted his soaked fingers to his mouth to slurp up as much of the mix of fluids as he could. 

“You are extremely filthy, Shane Hollander.”

Shane blushed, but didn’t stop until he’d cleaned each finger.

“You’re hard again.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m surprised I didn’t come on myself listening to you, but… that’s what Marleau did. So I couldn’t do that.”

“Of course. I should tell Cliff he’s been shown up. I’m sure he’d beg to come out here and prove he could do better.” He broke out in a loud laugh. “You should see your little jealous face right now.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk Mr. ‘Not So Gay You Can’t Fuck Rose Landry!’” Shane bit back before throwing himself on the bed next to Ilya. “Let’s have dinner first. Unless you really want it now?”

Ilya shook his head, content to study Shane’s flushed cheeks, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. They had all the time in the world.