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livin' a teenage dream by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-08-15
"He does that every time, doesn't he?" Sasha asked, not taking his eyes off Shane. "Before you fuck him. He folds his clothes. Neat little piles. Like he's preparing for something important."
"Like he actually thinks he’ll be able to fucking go anywhere when I’m done with him," Ilya breathed.
"Well," Sasha said, stepping close again, his hand finding Shane's waist and pulled him against his front. Shane could feel the hard line of his cock pressed against him as Sasha hooked his chin over Shane’s shoulder to stare down Ilya. He groped Shane’s pec and leered, "Ilyusha, we will see if you do anything tonight won’t we?”or
35 year old Ilya Rozanov gets to live out 19 year old Ilya Rozanov's wet dream.
- Part 10 of A Formal Study of the Heart
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,371
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #90530896
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Bridgeford is a small, quiet town. Too dull to hold someone like Ilya, a restless young alpha always chasing something sharper, faster, louder. Too suffocating for Shane, an omega who’s spent too long under watchful eyes, tired of being seen as a social case just because he's an omega.
One last summer. That's all they both have to live through before they're both off to the big city. That was the plan.
Until fate pulls a few strings, and suddenly, two complete strangers feel drawn to each other in all the wrong ways.
OR: a modern, dramatic fairytale of two soulmates finding each other
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 41,362
- Chapters:
- 7/?
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #81608996
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Shane and Ilya have exactly one hour for sex before Ilya has to be on a red eye to Denver. They make the most of the time available.
- Part 4 of Sincere Communication
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,542
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78465861
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Shane goes for a massage.
Russian translation available here
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,707
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76461441
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Shane Hollander's heat came unexpectedly early. He begs Ilya to come and help him. Ilya does. The game that fateful day was a special dynamic one. Shane Hollander had his mind focused on one thing - winning. Well, maybe not only that. Because the presence of Ilya Rozanov was like a heavy bag on his shoulders, pressing him down and making it harder to focus. Every time they crossed paths on the ice, the heavy scent of the Russian man filled his nostrils, making him slip up with his game. "Focus, Hollander!" yelled his teammate, right when Shane's gaze locked on Ilya's back. He shook his head, trying to shake off the uncontrollable need to be close to the man on whose cock he had been stretched so many times. But the game was a more pressing matter now, and he needed to act like it. So he tried his best. His team was on a good path to victory, and he himself managed to score two goals in the three periods - even though his mind was in a completely different place. But then, he felt it. That hot chill, sweat pouring across his face, his stomach twisting - his heat was coming in a very short timeline, much quicker than it should be. He knew it shouldn't be happening. Just before the game, he checked his app for tracking his cycle, and it was supposed to come in three days, not today. Not now. That was enough to make him absolutely terrible, giving Boston a great opportunity to get an upper hand over them. Their rivals managed to win, with two more goals scored, the game ending and sealing Montreal's unfortunate fate. "What the fuck was that, man?! Why were you so distracted, for God's sake?!" His team was furious with him, but he couldn't afford to stay and argue with them. He knew he didn't have a lot of time, so he changed as fast as he could, and basically flew out of that locker room, rushing to get to his hotel room. When Shane managed to finally open the door with his shaky hands, he collapsed on the floor, his legs weak from the overwhelming feeling. He wanted to crawl out of his skin - he was that hot. He quickly tore off his clothes, leaving them scattered across the room's floor. Shane barely had the strength to crawl into his bed, but when he did, he collapsed on the soft hotel sheets, sighing with somewhat of a relief. He still very much felt like shit, like he was about to melt from the heat that surrounded him. If it stayed like this, he would manage it alone. But he knew his body too well - more was coming, and it would come in the most unexpected moment, making him so desperate to feel something inside him that he would do something he normally wouldn't - he's going to beg that motherfucker. Shane knew he should destroy his phone before he reached that state, because then, any restraint and shame would leave him, and he would indeed beg Rozanov to come and fuck him into oblivion. But he didn't have more time to debate on it, because the overwhelming feeling had come. He moaned, his ass arching in the air without his consent, his legs spreading, his instincts screaming for a knot. His hand reached for his phone, and he did what he shouldn't. Jane: 708. Now. Please. He wrote and collapsed on the sheets again. He shifted, turning on his back, his hand reaching for the aching hole that was now leaking slick like crazy. As soon as he touched it, his mouth opened, and a loud moan escaped his lips. His legs parted as far as possible to ease himhis access for pleasure that he needed so much at that moment. "Fuuuck... Rozanov, please..." Shane begged, his finger slipping inside, slowly stretching himself for what was hopefully going to come. He knew he'd need that stretching, his mind going back a few months when he last saw the massive cock of the Russian man. He wanted that nine inches like a lifeline, desperate for the feeling of being completely full with the warm cock, for the part when it swells even more, and seals them together. But Rozanov never gave him that satisfaction unfortunately, because, as he put it, 'I don't want to knock you up, Hollander'. But now, Shane wanted nothing more than exactly that. He wanted his belly to swell with the pup of his rival, to be caressed and cared for by the usually nonchalant man, to be loved. But, oh, his dreams were impossible, and he knew it. Shane added another finger, trying to reach where only Ilya could, and groaned with frustration when he failed. He arched his back, fucking himself with his fingers, trying to imagine Rozanov being the one on top of him, pressing him to the mattress, making him come one time after another. "Fuck, Ilya!" he cried out, not even noticing that he had used the name of the man. He was too deep in his fantasy to register the real Ilya walking through the door, closing it, and making sure it was locked. "Oh, fuck, fuck me harder, please! Rozanov, fuuck!" Rozanov rested his back on the door, enjoying the sight in front of him. As soon as he relaxed, smirking satisfied, the sweet smell hit him, making his nonchalant posture crumble, as his instincts screamed to go and put his knot in the omega on the bed. But he managed to contain himself, instead undressing, while Shane was still in his own fantasy. "Fuck, fuck, fuck... AHH, Rozanov!" Shane screamed out, as his cock shot out a thick stream of cum on his stomach, his arch deepening, his other hand curling deeply with the sheets. "I must say I enjoy show, Hollander," Ilya finally spoke up, revealing himself to Shane, who got scared so much that he almost jumped off the bed. "Oh, do not be shy now. You put me a great show, really." "Fuck, Rozanov!" Shane cursed, his face getting even redder than before from his heat. "Couldn't you announce yourself louder when you walked through the door? Must you be such an asshole?!" he complained, sitting up and covering his dick with his hands.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,481
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76048846