61 – 70 of 70 Works in Spanking
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Shane and Ilya go to a club where Shane gets too friendly with other guys, Ilya isn’t too happy about it Or Ilya makes sure Shane knows who he belongs to
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,565
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76722006
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hotel, motel, holiday inn by mandathegreat
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-30
Shane’s hands shook a bit as he knocked at the door, once, twice, three times. He waited, only a few seconds before the door opened, and Ilya Rozanov stood before him. His voice cracked a bit as he spoke. “Your luggage is here, Mister Rozanov, sir.” ... Or: Married Shane and Ilya revisit their bellboy role-play from the cottage.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,897
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76687496
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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
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76655226
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Shane hasn't gotten a physical in years, and it may affect his ability to play. Ilya is loving and firm, Shane is anxious; they get through it together.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,524
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76521311
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It’s Ilya Rozanov’s first Christmas with the Hollander family as Shane’s boyfriend. Between festive fluff, stolen kisses, and a spicy mischief right in front of Elf on the Shelf (omg scandalous), Ilya realizes he’s never felt this much at home before. AKA Lots of fluff, a little smut (including some light spanking for Shane), and then fluff again :P
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,598
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76391771
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“Hi,” Hollander says, leaning forward, his lips grazing Ilya’s. Ilya pulls back. “Are you going to behave?” Hollander considers this and, for a rare moment this evening, sounds completely genuine when he responds, “Is that what you want?” Or Shane walks Ilya like a dog and gets exactly what he wants.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,299
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76328981
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Shane was thinking about what awaited him tonight as he washed his hair in the showers with the rest of his team after the game, and a small smirk graced the corner of his lips. The thought of Ilya pinning him to the bed like he’d pinned him to the boards, seeing him clean and freshly-showered post-game and then wrecking him all over again into a sweaty, breathless mess. Ilya deserved that tonight. Shane would fight back a little, just for the fun of it— but Ilya always got him in the end. Shane was weak for him every time. *** Shane and Ilya meet up after the game at Ilya's penthouse in Boston, and Ilya plays with Shane like putty in his hands. No matter how vicious he was on the ice, Shane Hollander was always so, so good for Ilya Rozanov.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,405
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76055636
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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
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Shane's shorts got Ilya actin' up by hollzy81
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-11
A quiet afternoon turns dangerous when Shane wears the shorts he knows will ruin Ilya’s self-control. Shane and Ilya were home, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the room. Ilya was sprawled on the plush couch, resting on his back, his eyes glued his phone. The scent of rain-soaked earth drifted in from the open window, mingling with the faint aroma of Shane's cologne, a familiar and comforting presence. Shane emerged from the shower, the steam still clinging to his skin, his hair damp and tousled. He walked downstairs, the soft thud of his bare feet against the wooden floorboards the only sound breaking the silence. He was wearing shorts, but not just any shorts. They were the kind that Ilya knew, the kind that made his breath hitch, the kind that screamed, "Fuck me." They were a faded, soft denim, riding low on his hips, the waistband barely concealing the curve of his ass. Ilya's mouth watered instantly. He couldn't help it. He’d been captivated by Shane since the moment they met, and even after years together, the man still had the power to render him speechless. Shane seemed to notice his husband's reaction, a shy smile playing on his lips. He turned and headed into the kitchen, leaning against the counter, his back to Ilya, offering the perfect view of his ass. Ilya couldn't take it anymore. He rose from the couch in two swift strides, crossing the room and pressing himself against Shane's back. He wrapped his arms around Shane's waist, his hands finding purchase on the soft denim. "These shorts," Ilya murmured, his voice husky, "will be the death of me." He started grinding his half-erect cock against his husband's ass, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through him. Shane moaned, pushing back against his husband, his body arching slightly. "Wore them just for you," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Fuck," Ilya breathed, the word a prayer, a promise. He started squeezing Shane's ass, his fingers kneading the soft flesh. Shane groaned, his body trembling. Ilya trailed kisses along Shane's neck, his lips and teeth finding the sensitive skin just below his ear. Shane closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against his husband's shoulder, and whimpered softly. "Does that feel good?" Ilya asked, his voice a low rumble. Shane moaned and nodded, his breath catching in his throat. Ilya started touching Shane's nipples through his shirt, twitching them between his fingers, teasing them with a gentle touch. Shane moaned out loud, the sound a raw, desperate plea. "Fuck, Ilya... more," he begged, his voice laced with need. Ilya, already on the edge, was completely turned on by everything, the feel of Shane's body against his, the sound of his moans, the way his eyes were glazed with desire. He couldn't help himself. He slapped Shane's ass, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Shane moaned, pressing closer to his husband, his body seeking more. "Again," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper. Ilya cursed under his breath. "Fuck, Hollander. You’re perfect." And he smacked Shane's ass again, harder this time. Shane whimpered, the sound a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Ilya... fuck..." Shane's cock was leaking furiously, his shorts and boxers soaked in pre-cum, the evidence of his arousal undeniable. He couldn't take it anymore. He ground his ass harder against his husband, his hips moving in a desperate rhythm, and moaned, "Please." Ilya grabbed Shane's hair, pulling his head back, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Words, Hollander. What do you need?" Shane moaned. "I need you to fuck me... on this counter, fuck, Ilya." He started grinding harder, his body writhing with anticipation. "As you wish," Ilya said, his voice a low growl. He reached down, his fingers finding Shane's front. "Spit." Shane obeyed instantly, his eyes locked on Ilya's, and spit on his fingers. "Good boy," Ilya murmured, a possessive edge to his voice. Shane's eyes fluttered at the nickname, his body already trembling with the promise of pleasure. Ilya shoved Shane's shorts and boxers down in one swift movement, revealing his wet, throbbing cock. He started circling his hole with his fingers, his touch slow and deliberate, preparing him. Shane moaned desperately, his body arching. "Please... Ilya..." Ilya smacked his ass again, the sound sharp in the air. "You take what I give you, understand?" "Yes... Fuck... Ilya, whatever you say." Ilya groaned, his own control slipping. He pushed a finger in, slowly, deliberately, stretching Shane's hole. Shane moaned out loud, his body tensing. "This hole is so fucking tight," Ilya whispered, his voice thick with anticipation. "Can't wait to get it all loose." Shane moaned at the words, his hips bucking. Ilya added another finger, scissoring them, his touch becoming more insistent. He moved closer to Shane's lips, hovering over his ear. "Do you want that... want me to ruin your hole and make it mine forever? Ruin you for everyone else?" Shane's eyes rolled back, his head lolling against Ilya's shoulder. Ilya's fingers found his prostate, and he began to stroke it, his touch precise and relentless. Shane moaned, a long, drawn-out sound of pure pleasure. "Yes... fuck... yes, Ilya... ruin me."
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,721
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75604546
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The Warm Embrace of Winter by nj_1996
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-01
The king of Rozanova wakes to the only warmth that has ever mattered: his husband sprawled over his chest, the most beautiful man in the entire world lit with the soft, gentle glow of morning. There is a council waiting, a kingdom to run, old men to convince and borders to hold. Ilya would much rather spend the morning cataloguing every freckle, praising every inch of Shane’s body and coaxing his consort into saying exactly what he wants… and then giving it to him until Shane is still feeling it when he finally takes his seat at the council table. (Sequel to Melting a Winter King. Can be read on its own, but works best as a double feature!)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,720
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75062056
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