61 – 80 of 95 Works in Multiple Orgasms
- Multiple Orgasms ×
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What do you get the man who self-proclaimedly has everything he could ever want and need? This is the dilemma Shane faces yet again, wondering what on earth he could possibly get Ilya for his birthday. The answer comes in the form of raiding Ilya’s closet and impulsive 3 AM purchases. or the hollanov birthday sex au no one asked for
- Part 2 of vignettes in time
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,111
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76853676
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There is no plot. There is no foreplay. This is smut. He never broke eye contact with Shane–not for a second. Their breathing picked up, growing heavier as that familiar pull of desire and want overtook them. They stared at each other, fully aware of just how far gone they both were, how badly they wanted each other, how obsessed they’d become with each other.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,282
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76972896
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Shane has always known he didn't navigate the world like other people, but he'd always told himself it didn't matter. He got by, so it was fine. But the night after his parents came to the cottage for dinner with him and Ilya, Ilya took Shane apart in a way that shifts everything. He can't stop thinking about it, especially the petname Ilya started using that night. -- Or: Shane Hollander is undiagnosed autistic, and he and Ilya are figuring out how to navigate that even without knowing what it is.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,182
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76909341
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High At The Cottage by K_booklover98
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-02
Ilya brings weed to the cottage one summer, gets Shane really high and they have stoned, sweet, lazy, and indulgent sex
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,882
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76903946
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“Il—y-ah!” Ilya let out a soft chuckle. “I know,” Ilya breathed. “Come for me, Hollander. Be a good boy and come.” Shane’s eyes rolled back at the words, lashes fluttering. His entire body went rigid for a moment—then his orgasm hit like a fucking tidal wave. The suite was dark except for the faint glow of the city through the half-drawn curtains. They’d been at it for hours—at least that’s what Shane thinks, he couldn’t tell at this point. It began as slow, deliberate teasing that had started in the shower after the game and eventually migrated to the king-sized bed. Ilya had taken his time, working Shane open with his fingers and tongue until Shane was a begging, writhing mess. He’d already come three times—once on Ilya’s tongue, once riding three of Ilya’s fingers, and once just from Ilya stroking him slow and merciless while whispering filthy praise in his ear. Each orgasm had left Shane more sensitive, more undone, until he was trembling all over, skin flushed hot, cock half-hard again and leaking like a faucet, despite how spent he felt. Now Shane was on his back in the middle of the bed, legs spread wide, knees bent and hooked over Ilya’s hips. Sweat cooled on his chest; his hair stuck to his forehead. He was breathing fast, little hitched breaths, eyes glassy and fixed on Ilya like he was both terrified and desperate for what came next. Ilya knelt between his thighs, stroking himself slowly, slick with lube and Shane’s earlier release. He leaned down, braced one hand beside Shane’s head, and brushed a thumb across Shane’s wet lower lip. “You sure?” Ilya asked, voice low and rough, but gentle. “You’re already shaking, malysh. We can stop.” Shane shook his head immediately, eyes going wide and even more glassy as if he were about to cry, which, he probably was. “No—no, please. Want you inside me. Need it.” He whined with the most adorable pout playing on his bottom lip. Ilya’s jaw flexed. He could see how close to the edge Shane already was—how every touch made him flinch and gasp, how his thighs trembled against Ilya’s sides. But the plea in Shane’s voice was unmistakable. “Okay,” Ilya murmured. He lined himself up carefully, nudging just the head in. “Breathe for me. Slow.” Shane tried. He really did. But the second Ilya started pushing in—slow, relentless pressure— Shane’s whole body jerked. A broken whine tore out of him, high and overwhelmed. His hands flew to Ilya’s shoulders, nails digging in hard. “Fuck—” “I know,” Ilya soothed, stopping halfway, letting Shane adjust. “I know it’s a lot. You’re doing so good for me.. Just breathe.” Shane’s legs shook harder, heels digging into the mattress. Tears slipped down his temples into his hair. He squirmed, hips twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to push down or pull away. “Ilya—” “Shh. Look at me.” Ilya waited until Shane’s watery eyes met his. “If you need to stop, just tell me, Shane. You’re doing so good.” Shane nodded frantically, another tear falling. “Want it. Please move.” Ilya did—slow, careful thrusts at first, sinking deeper inch by inch until he was fully seated. Shane’s back arched off the bed instantly, mouth open on a silent cry. His whole body trembled violently, thighs clamping around Ilya’s hips. “Fuck—fuck—Ilya—” “There you go,” Ilya whispered, starting a gentle rhythm. “Such a good boy..” Shane whined so loud at that Ilya thought he was going to have to put his hand over his mouth. Every drag of Ilya’s cock over his oversensitive prostate made Shane sob dryly. He couldn’t stop moving—hips rolling, back bowing, hands scrabbling at Ilya’s back like he was trying to anchor himself. Tears streamed freely now, not from pain but from pure overload. “OhmyfuckingGod,” Shane choked out all in one breath, voice cracking. “Can’t—Ilya—“ “You can,” Ilya said firmly, keeping his pace steady, deep but not fast. He leaned down closer, forehead pressed to Shane’s. “Sound so good for me, дорогой. Such a good boy for me..” “Nnngh..” Was the only response Shane could give as his cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink as drool slipped out of the corner of his mouth. Shane’s legs wrapped tighter around Ilya’s waist, heels digging into the small of his back as if trying to pull him deeper even while his body tried to squirm away from the intensity. His cock—hard as can be with the head being dark red and wet—leaked steadily against his stomach, untouched. “Il—y-ah!” Ilya let out a soft chuckle. “I know,” Ilya breathed. “Come for me, Hollander. Be a good boy and come.” Shane’s eyes rolled back at the words, lashes fluttering. His entire body went rigid for a moment—then his orgasm hit like a fucking tidal wave. His entire body convulsed—violent, full-body shudders that made the bed creak. Ilya wrapped both arms around him—one tight across his back, the other sliding up to cradle the back of Shane’s head. He pulled Shane’s face down into the curve of his shoulder, tucking him close to hold him through it because he knew Shane would be absolutely spent after. His back arched impossibly under Ilya’s weight, hips grinding helplessly as wave after wave tore through him. Muffled, wrecked sobs vibrated against Ilya’s neck. His eyes rolled back again, fluttering shut, breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,098
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76960816
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I’d like to make it with you by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-01
"God, Hollander. You are so… what is the word—?" "Boring?" Shane deadpanned with a knowing look. Ilya shook his head. "Vanilla." — Ilya thinks it's about time he and Shane started shaking things up in the bedroom. Now that they’re alone, unfettered from obligations to the hockey season, he wants to try new things.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,871
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76810421
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“Well?” Shane’s voice catches, teeth gritting as his fingers clench into unforgiving porcelain. Ilya breathes out. “I can smell you from all the way down the hall.” Shane swallows, rolling his eyes as his head drops. “Fuck off.” Ilya pushes himself off from the wall, the heels of his shoes clicking against the tile. Shane doesn’t even fight it when Ilya takes his chin between his fingers, blissfully suffocated by the alpha’s proximity. Or, a Las Vegas heat fic.
- Part 1 of Nettles (Hollanov Fics)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,511
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76639791
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i'm your biggest fan, mr. hollander by orphan_account
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-30
Shane blinked away the easy haziness settling over his mind and turned, his mouth going dry and his heart stuttering to a stop in his chest as he pieced together what was happening. One of Shane’s extra jerseys – one used almost exclusively for photos – was pulled across Ilya’s body, clinging to his chest and shoulders and loosening around his waist where his body tapered in. “Oh my God,” Shane exhaled, fairly certain that he might be dying and this was the first glimpse of heaven he was going to get. Ilya turned slowly, grinning, and showed off the HOLLANDER spreading across his back and Shane’s number branding him. “You played so well, Mr. Hollander. I’m such a fan of you.” or, hollanov roleplay with ilya in shane's jersey
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,840
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76686331
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Hidden in Plain Sight by Ineffableoutpost
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
5 times Ilya teases and flirts with Shane in public without getting caught, and 1 time they do get caught.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,977
- Chapters:
- 6/6
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #74964736
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"I want to eat you out." Shane's gaze narrows in confusion. "But … I don't have…" Ilya's thumb brushes over his hole. Once. Twice. When it clicks, Shane groans. "Ilya, that's gross," he says, hand coming up to cover his blush. Ilya grabs his arm, wrenches it away from his face. "No, you just showered. You are telling me you don't wash your ass? Shane Hollander doesn't wash his ass?"
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,395
- Chapters:
- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #76655226
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“You in yet, Rozanov?” “Oh, you still got jokes in you, huh, Hollander?” or: shane tries to ragebait ilya
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- English
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- 1,191
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76520556
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Shane dropped his gaze. “You’re really going to make me ask?” “Yes,” Ilya said. “You ask, maybe you get. So, ask.” “Okay,” Shane said. “I want you to fuck me.” Ilya started to laugh. “Don’t—this isn’t a fucking joke, alright?” Shane snapped. “Shut up. I want it to be different. Or, no—the same, but more. I want you to just make me fucking take it. Shit. I don’t know how to ask you for this.” “No, no, is good start so far,” Ilya said. “Go back to the part where I get to make you fucking take it. That’s good. Tell me more.”
- Part 1 of missing scenes
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 12,030
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76021551
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They've been at it for hours. Or rather, Shane has been at it for hours. He's come three times already, each one unsatisfying and unfulfilling, but Ilya won't let him stop, won’t just give him what he wants. “Please… please, I-Ilya…” Shane’s voice is hoarse as he pleads, but Ilya ignores him, piercing eyes sharp in the mirror as he watches intently. He brings his lips to Shane's neck, a hand sliding down his chest to dip between his thighs. “Don't stop.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,801
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76437831
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Three for Three by Su_porn_ova222
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-26
Shane got a text from Ilya before the game: "For every goal you score, you come, yes?" It wasn't really a question. Shane knew this, and he was determined to show Ilya what he could do on the ice and in bed. Unfortunately, at the end of the game, Ilya Rozanov snapped, and Shane seemed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, getting caught in the fray. He actually enjoyed it more then he thought.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,872
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76471246
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tastes like he might be the one by pocketsofsun
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-26
Ilya: I'm hungry. Shane: Lunch will be ready by the time you get back, baby. Ilya: No. Not for food. Get yourself ready for me in bed. I will be home soon. Fingers only, do not touch your dick. or: the come eating fic
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,000
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76441906
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where's the trophy (he just comes running over to me) by sanjuwrites
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-24
Shane smiles shakily and Ilya lets go, watching him walk up and slot in between Haas and Wyatt. Bood leans forward, "Hollander okay?" Ilya smiles a little at the concern in his friend's voice, "He will be fine. We will all be fine, because," Ilya raises his voice, carrying over the line of hockey players, "we are winning tonight!" The ground shakes with the force of the team hitting their sticks against the rubber floors. Outside, the announcer begins announcing the Centaurs, and within the span of a minute, all of their skates are hitting the ice. OR Shane and Ilya play the Stanley Cup finals. And then they celebrate. A lot.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,342
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76290906
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Nowhere to go but on (together) by DaughterofLegends, ticiakitty
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2025-12-23
Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov both need one thing to live their dreams of playing for the NHL: a mating bite. Shane's an omega, and the League doesn't allow unmated omegas to play hockey. Ilya's a Russian alpha, who needs a mate to get a U.S. visa. Their slightly harebrained solution? Bite each other, and let the unfinished bond fade. After five years of stupid texts, awkward heat-care packages, and dancing around their feelings, the bond still hasn't faded and ignoring it has become impossible—something's got to give. -- Contains spoilers for those who have only watched the show, and for The Long Game. A/B/O AU that very loosely follows canon. Happy ending!
- Part 2 of Lying to the NHL, but make it A/B/O
- Part 4 of Fighting Puritanism, one smutty Hollanov AU at a time
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,062
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76287076
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cut through all the noise by theboyysavior (belasteals)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-23
Ilya leaned down and pressed an almost chaste kiss to Shane’s lips. “Stay.” Shane dutifully stayed still on the bed as Ilya went to the other side of the room, rummaging in the drawer for longer than usual. Shane fought the urge to turn and see what Ilya was doing until the other man came back, crouching down in front of him. He was holding lube, a condom, and–to Shane’s surprise–the pair of leather handcuffs that usually sat in the back corner of their drawer. They didn’t use the cuffs often, maybe a handful of times ever. Shane didn’t usually like not being able to touch Ilya. But Shane felt something warm and eager stir inside of him. He wanted Ilya to make the choices tonight. He was tired of thinking. Shane has a lot on his mind. Ilya gets a few things off it. Shane frowned at the pot of rice as the water splashed out cloudy again. He wasn’t counting how many times he washed it, but Ilya was stirring the saucepan on the stove, and the rice wasn’t going to be ready at the same time. Shane had been moving slowly, distracted. He turned on the tap again. At the same time, his phone buzzed in his pocket. The Rolex rep, confirming what time the shoot was tomorrow. Or his mom. Or Hayden, or JJ, or someone else wanting to talk about the shitshow last night. He swirled his fingers through the rice grains impatiently and poured the water out again. It ran clear enough. Buzz. Tap back on, cold water up to the joint of his finger. Buzz. Three texts meant it was probably Hayden. Shane didn’t want to talk about the game. If the Rolex rep hadn’t sent the time yet, he didn’t know how early he was getting up in the morning. They couldn’t shoot too late, because Shane had to be back at the rink for video review, which was going to suck. Theriault was pissed. He set the pot back into the rice cooker, closed the lid, and frowned again. Nothing happened. He pushed a button, but nothing lit up. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Piece of-” “Shane.” Ilya put his hand on top of Shane’s gently. His tone it wasn’t the first time Ilya had called his name. “Is not plugged in.” Shane took a deep breath. “What’s going on?” “Nothing. I’m just distracted.” Ilya’s hand trailed up Shane’s arm, and Shane turned a little to face him. Ilya brushed his fingertips across Shane’s temple. “Where are you?” Shane leaned into the touch and Ilya flattened his hand against Shane’s cheek. Shane closed his eyes. “Pittsburgh.” “Pittsburgh sucks. Montreal is much nicer.” Shane let out a little huff. “You didn’t get shut out by them.” “No. But half your team has the flu.” “I don’t have the flu. I played like shit.” “Ah, and hockey is individual sport, yes? You can do everything by yourself?” Shane turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the palm of Ilya’s hand instead of responding. He let out another deep breath. “Shane. Sit. I will finish dinner.” Shane didn’t feel like arguing. “Okay,” he mumbled into Ilya’s palm. Ilya took his hand away, and Shane missed it immediately. “And give me your phone.” “Why?” Shane was already handing it over. “Because you will look at it and be more stressed.” Ilya slid Shane’s phone into his pocket. “Sit.” Shane wandered into the living room and sat on the couch. He looked around, picked up the book on the end table he had been ignoring for weeks, and stared blankly at a page until Ilya came back in with two bowls. Shane ate listlessly. When they were done, Ilya pulled him back against his chest and Shane let himself relax a little into the other man’s arms. They stayed like that for a while, Ilya’s breath soft against the top of Shane’s head and his arms strong around him. “You are stressed,” Ilya said into his hair eventually. “Very observant,” Shane said quietly, no real bite to it. “Mmm. Nothing gets by me. Like Pittsburgh goalie.” Shane turned to complain, but Ilya kissed him gently. “Still. You are very stressed lately. You are thinking too much.” “I’m sorry. We haven’t seen each other in weeks, and I’m-” Shane gestured with one hand, and Ilya caught it in his firm grasp. “No apologizing. Come to bed. You need to relax.” Shane reluctantly stood up from Ilya’s embrace. “The dishes first.” “Yes, yes, dishes. Then bed.” Ilya had already loaded most of the dishes into the dishwasher. Shane rearranged them properly and slotted their bowls and forks in. Ilya kissed him again as soon as they made it into the bedroom, backing Shane up until the bed hit the back of his knees. They stayed like that for a while, kissing gently and then deeply, until Ilya pulled back and his eyes searched over Shane’s face. Shane made a frustrated little sound and leaned back towards him, but Ilya put his hands on Shane’s shoulders and guided him down to sit on the bed. “You are thinking too much. Let me make your brain quiet, yes?” Ilya said. His voice was even, but Shane could see he was half-hard in his sweatpants. Shane was almost embarrassed at how quickly he nodded. He didn’t want to think anymore. His whole body, tired and tense, craved Ilya. Ilya leaned down and pressed an almost chaste kiss to Shane’s lips. “Stay.” Shane dutifully stayed still on the bed as Ilya went to the other side of the room, rummaging in the drawer for longer than usual. Shane fought the urge to turn and see what Ilya was doing until the other man came back, crouching down in front of him. He was holding lube, a condom, and–to Shane’s surprise–the pair of leather handcuffs that usually sat in the back corner of their drawer.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,735
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76244011
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Shane didn’t tell his parents until the lease was already signed. “Oh, by the way,” he said, shoving a spearing of carbonara into his mouth, “the guy I’m rooming with is an alpha.” Yuna was scrolling through Facebook, so it took a moment for her to register what Shane had said. His father, however, furrowed his brows and frowned. “What?” David leaned forward, hand reaching toward his son as if to pull him off a cliff. “Why in the world would you room with an alpha?” Yuna’s eyes darted up. “What?” David repeated, “He just said he’s—” “Rooming with an alpha, yes, I heard.” Yuna unceremoniously dropped her phone on the table. She made a quick scan of the restaurant before speaking, as if worried someone would overhear that her unmated omega son had agreed to live alone with an alpha. Shane loved his parents, he did. He loved having an alpha mother and a beta father, and he knew they adored him back. But it didn’t change the fact that they sometimes let their biases seep through. “That’s not safe, Shane.” ///// Shane meets his scent-kryptonite in the form of Ilya Rozanov.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,105
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75581361
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January, 2016 Ilya orders two burgers and fries for them to share. There is a can of ginger ale, which Shane takes gladly, and, there is also coleslaw salad, which Ilya insisted he got for himself, but Shane caves in and takes a forkful of it too, and, there is an ice cream sandwich, and, Shane doesn’t even like sweet things, but he bites into it as well under Ilya’s amused gaze. “What?” Shane mumbles, his mouth full. Ilya shakes his head. He looks so peaceful and truly calm, which is why Shane doesn’t expect him to open his mouth and say: “You truly are going in heat” so casually. Or, how Shane and Ilya make a baby (prequel to ‘Ice Baby’). January, 2016 Shane is boiling. And not because of the weather, but that one is pretty close. The heat is unbelievable. The weather in Los Angeles is normally pretty mild in January, but this year it turned out to be unnaturally hot, and because they were so far out in the desert, the temperatures felt almost ten times worse. It does not help that Shane feels feverish. He woke up sweaty and flushed this morning, despite the cool nighttime air he let through the open balcony doors (he doesn’t turn on the AC because he thinks it is not good for him), but now, his skin feels rigid and dry, and, no matter how much water he keeps drinking, he cannot quench down the thirst rising in his body. He spent the first half of the day wandering around in a strange haze, but, he feels calmer now, away from the nauseating scents and the constant presence of the other people surrounding him. He cannot however hide away from the sun. Even, in the shade of the umbrella and palm trees, it feels over a hundred degrees. It is past lunchtime, and most of the players of this year’s All-Star Game are back at their rooms or spending time with their families in the hotel, while Shane is one of the few, who stayed out, an unread book lying open on his chest, cover up, as he considers his options. He technically still has time to go back to his room and take a nap before this evening’s charity dinner. He is not particularly tired, but it would be wise to gather his strength after a restless night. He can also stay out and read, taking advantage of the pool, while it’s empty. Shane has a small hot tub back at his villa, but the pool is deeper and wider and Shane would love to use it to his advantage. It is so rare to carve out small moments for himself, that Shane wants to enjoy them to the fullest while he can. The mid-afternoon sun is cruel. January heat is unforgiving, and Shane sort of hopes that the promised rain, which is supposed to break out later in the day, will ease the heaviness in the air. He sinks into the sun-bed, his sunglasses perched low on his nose, then picks up the paperback and tries to focus on the words in front of him. The pool, with its smooth, crystal-like waters is calling to him. Shane sighs, giving up on reading after ten minutes, and steps towards the swimming pool. Tension lifts off his chest when he lets his feet soak in the cool water. Shane is alone, so he takes his time, entering the pool, his body relaxing under the clear surface. Swimming never failed to calm his racing mind and now it also manages to soothe the unsettling anxiety underneath his skin. Shane dives in, headfirst, and he is not thinking about anything other than the water smothering his body like a blanket. His head is completely blank which is perhaps why the arms tightening around his waist make him gasp out in surprise, and rise in panic above the surface, gulping for air. “What the fuck-!” “Found you,” a gleeful voice chirps beside his ear. Shane wants to trash out, but his movements are slow and all he manages is the fiery scowl over his shoulder, and turn round to stare at the familiar face. “We are in public!” “No one is here,” the man shrugs, but he does let go of Shane’s waist and swims to the opposite side of the pool, not even trying to look guilty after noticing the frown twisting Shane’s face. “Had to make sure you were not planning on drowning yourself.” “I know how to swim, Rozanov,” Shane huffs, “and it is now that deep in here.” The Russian gives him a playful look across the pool. Shane’s skin tingles where Ilya’s hands touched him just a moment ago, and he pushes away a longing thought, that he wants to feel the alpha’s arms wrap around him again. Rozanov takes long leisurely strokes across the pool, and Shane tries not to stare at the bulge of his muscles or at the tanned skin, glistening under the Californian sun. Los Angeles has been good to Ilya. It makes his hair curlier, and his face flushed and warm from all the tanning, and he smiles more, his teeth sharp and white against his darkened skin. Shane likes the look of eternal summer on him, and it is not good for either his heart, nor his poorly concealed desire. “I thought you wanted to swim,” Rozanov’s annoyed voice shakes Shane out of his lingering. “Come on, Hollander. Entertain me.” Shane looks around. He is worried. A part of him knows that Ilya is right, they are alone, but the idea that someone could come in, and see the two of them together, nudges him uncomfortably.
- Part 2 of Crushing In the Rink
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,415
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76012366