241 – 260 of 276 Works in Ilya Rozanov is a Menace
- Ilya Rozanov is a Menace ×
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"You were missing goals because of this...secret." He thumbed over the lace at the thought. Shane tried to swallow the lump in his throat but this new form of humiliation with Ilya was arousing to him. Ilya's reaction was not judgment, just pure want. "Put them on." Or: Shane loses a bet with Hayden and has to wear lingerie during a game. Ilya finds them and is insistent that Shane try them on. Shane Hollander was a man, and men - at least in his mind - did not wear such garments. He glanced at himself in the mirror, clenching his jaw so tight that it hurt. The locker room was a sea of pre-game chatter - sticks tapping against the floor, laughter echoing off the walls, and a pungent scent of sweat-caked gear lingering in the air. But Shane paid no mind to any of that because he could not remove his thoughts from the humiliating secret hidden underneath his hockey gear. It was just a stupid bet really. Hayden Pike had been his friend and foe on the ice for years, playing with and against each other as they were passed from team to team. Their banter was playful and sharp, but at the end of the day they were still good friends. Although after tonight's game, Shane might have to reconsider. A few weeks ago, after Ottawa had pushed Montreal out of the play offs in over-time, Hayden cornered Shane outside of the dressing room. "You've gotten feisty Hollander," he grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Bet you I can score more goals than you in the next match up." Shane, still buzzing from the adrenaline of the loss, shot back, "You're on. Loser does what exactly?" "Something embarrassing." Hayden grinned. "What like wearing woman's underwear during a game?" A question he would later regret asking. Hayden laughed in delight. "Perfect! Full game though, no backing out and no taking them off half way." Shane was certain he would win, but fate - or bad luck - would prove him otherwise. In their rematch, Hayden racked up one solid goal and a hat trick while Shane only managed an assist. A fact that otherwise would not have bothered him, but the bet was sealed. And now, Shane was wearing the black lacy panties Hayden had mailed him with a note: can't wait to see you squirm. What a dick. The fabric was soft, almost too soft. It hugged him in a way that felt foreign and intrusive. As he laced up his skates, he desperately tried to ignore how the lace rubbed against his skin with every movement. It was supposed to be a joke, just a humiliation tactic, but as he slipped on his jersey a strange heat crept up his neck. He shook it off, focusing on the game ahead. Tonight was crucial - this was his teams chance to earn their spot back in the play offs and Shane will be damned if he lets a silly bet get in the way. The team filed out to the ice for warm-ups and relished in the roar of the crowd. Shane glided onto the rink and relaxed a little when the cool air hit his lungs. He circled the net, firing pucks at the goalie, trying to find his rhythm. But every stride and pivot sent him a subtle reminder of what was hidden beneath his uniform. "Focus." he muttered to himself. Hayden was out there too, smirking as he stretched. Their eyes locked and Hayden winked. Shane vowed to give that man a taste of his own medicine tonight. The national anthem played, the puck dropped, and the game began. Shane won the opening face off and sent the puck back to his defenceman. He charged forward while stick-handling through the neutral zone. Ottawa's defense closed in and he passed to the wing man, but his mind wandered for a split second. The lace pressed against him as he accelerated. He thanked god that his helmet hid the blushing on his face. First period flew by in a blur. Shane assisted on a goal, bringing the score 1-1 but he couldn't shake off the awareness. Every time he sat on the bench to catch his breath, the fabric teased him. It wasn't painful, just constant. By intermission he was sweating more than usual and his heart pounded in his chest. The coach barked orders in the locker room, adjusting lines and replanning strategies. Shane could only half-heartedly pay attention. What the hell is wrong with me? He thought. This was supposed to be embarrassing...not arousing. He shifted in his seat and the lace shifted just right, sending blood to his groin. He stifled a whimper and prayed that none of the other guys had heard what did slip past his lips. During the second period the intensity grew. Ottawa scored on a power play to take the lead. Shane retaliated with a hard check to an opponent, the impact jarring through his body. But even the brute force of the collision couldn't drown out the thrill he felt from this secret. As he skated back to the bench he realized that the lace was now cradling his half hard cock in a devilishly pleasant way. "Hollander get your head in the game!" His lineman yelled as they set up for the next shift. Shane nodded, but he knew that would be an impossible task. He imagined Hayden knowing and pictured a smug look on his rivals face. that thought only heightened the sensation. During a penalty call, Shane looked over at Hayden who was trash talking another Mett. Hayden caught his eyes and his expression shifted. Fuck. Shane thought. He knows. The puck dropped and Shane exploded off the bench. He intercepted a pass and made a break away towards Ottawa's net. The crowd roared but all he could think about was the sliding of lace against his growing erection. He deked the goalie, slapping a shot that dinged off the post. Close, but not a goal. He circled around and huffed in frustration. How could a stupid pair of panties throw him off his game this badly? He would have never missed that shot otherwise! By midway of the second period, Shane was a mess. His plays were sharp but fueled by a bizarre adrenaline that had his sweating profusely. His thoughts were consumed and he liked it. God he liked it. And the make matters worse, he started thinking about Ilya...on his knees...kissing up Shane's thigh to- NOT NOW! He yelled at himself. Shane was all to aware of the sensations in his body now, and not just his arousal. The pressure of his skates on his feet, the weight of his helmet on his head. He wanted to rip his gear off and let someone have their way with him. He wanted Ilya. A whistle blew for icing and Shane lined up to face off with Pike.
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Twenty Reasons You Should Still be Jealous of Ilya Rozanov by trickysnail
Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-01-18
Is there even a reason to be jealous of Ilya Rozanov anymore? When Ilya's married life in Ottawa is accused of being boring, he responds with a list of things he has worth being jealous of. Number six will shock you! (It won't.)
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Ilya didn't know what came over himself but every instinct in his body told him to slap his boyfriends ass. So he did. It was casual, almost careless, but as the crack of the slap echoed across the lake, so did the moan from Shane's throat. or: Ilya slaps Shane's ass and Shane REALLY likes it. It was a crisp day in late August and the sun had already dipped behind the trees when the banter started. They were both lounging on the porch of Shane's cottage - Shane with his head in Ilya's lap, and Ilya sipping on a beer, wearing a shit-eating grin that said 'I'm winning this argument'. "You're so full of shit." Shane said with a lazy voice, eyes half shut. "You would have missed that last goal by a mile if my controller didn't disconnect." Ilya snorted. "Lyubimyy, just admit, I am the hockey video game master." Shane rolled his eyes but the corner of his mouth twitched. "Keep dreaming Rozanov." They'd been at this for at least an hour - light jabs, who deserved the last chip in the bowl, who looked better in the team's new hoodie. The kind of sharp-edged flirting that had become their method of affection over the years. Ilya combed his fingers through Shane's hair. "You talk big game for someone who folded like wet napkin in the locker room with me last week." Shane snorted a laugh. "That was strategic retreat. Huge difference." He stands up to grab another beer from the cooler. "Oh Mr. Strategy." Ilya teased. "You are lucky I fell so generous tonight." Shane shook his head in defeat and grabbed the iron stoker and poked at the fire pit that had been spitting flankers. Ilya didn't know what came over himself but every instinct in his body told him to slap his boyfriends ass. So he did. It was casual, almost careless, but as the crack of the slap echoed across the lake, so did the moan from Shane's throat. They both froze and Shane's face turned a vibrant shade of red. Too ashamed to look back, he started off into the trees, white knuckling the bottle in his hand. "Don't." He muttered, but it sounded more like a plea than a command. Ilya tilted his head, studying Shane. The smirk he had now replaced by something sharp and hungry. "It did not sound like a 'don't' to me." Shane swallowed. "Ilya-" Another slap sent the stoker tumbling to the ground and elicited a different sound. This time it was a whimper - a small, helpless whimper. Ilya exhaled through his nose like he had been punched. "Fuck you are serious." Shane couldn't bring himself to answer. The tips of his ears burned and the tingle on his ass cheek left a dry feeling in his mouth. Ilya stood abruptly, not caring that his beer had tipped over into the grass. Shane turned to meet his eyes slowly, and they were hungry. "Bedroom." Ilya ordered. "Now." Shane walked ahead of him on shaking legs, acutely aware of every step he took and every time the fabric of his shorts moved against the sensitive skin on his ass. The bedroom door clicked behind them. Ilya didn't rush. He gently pushed Shane face-down onto the duvet, fully clothed, and climbed on top of him, bracketing Shane's thighs with his knees. One hand settled between Shane's shoulder blades to hold him in place, the other rubbed slow, methodical circles over the curve of his ass. "Are you going to tell me to stop?" Ilya asked, leaning low so that his breath tickled the other's ear. Shane shook his head and with a cracked voice he answered, "no." "Good." The first new spank came down hard enough to make Shane's entire body jolt. Heat bloomed instantly, sharp and bright. The second followed right after, then a third. Each one delivered just for Ilya to hear the sounds of pleasure escape involuntarily from Shane's lips. He paused at ten, hand smoothing over fabric like he was petting something precious. "Still good?" Shane nodded frantically, the duvet now damp from the stream of tears running from his eyes. His cock was painfully hard against the mattress and he could hardly help his hips rocking downward to relieve some of the tension. Ilya groaned in satisfaction. "Greedy Hollander." He shoved Shane's shirt up as far as he could and pulled down the lower garments just enough to expose Shane's ass. Ilya stood back for a moment to admire his work - one cheek as he had always seen it and the other bright red with the faint outline of his palm. He had decided in that moment that not even Da Vinci could paint something this beautiful. He kneaded a handful of the swollen flesh before cracking his hand down again. Ilya built a slow but firm rhythm, each swat turned into a deep ache that made Shane tremble. Every few strikes, Ilya would pause to knead again and, if curiosity peaked him, he would use his thumb to pull back the cheek just enough to watch his boyfriend's hole flutter. Shane was so fucking embarrassed but god did he want to keep going. "You like this," Ilya said with wonderment. "You really fucking like this." Shane could only nod and sniffle, now at a loss for words. When Ilya slid his hands between Shane's thighs to find him leaking and hard, he could only groan as if he were the one being spanked. He knelt to the floor and pulled Shane's hips out just a little. One hand wrapped around Shane's aching dick, the other resuming the spanking. Beads of pre-cum rolled down Ilya's hand and dripped onto the floor. Shane's thighs shook with each slap and the whimpers of wanting were no longer spaced out by silence. "Will you cum like this Hollander?" Ilya asked with intent. "I haven't even fucked you." Shane made a broken sounds that resembled a yes. "Then do it."Ilya insisted. "Let me see." It didn't take long after that. Ilya would guess maybe three more slaps before Shane came with a shuddering cry into the mattress. His hips jerked uncontrollably and cum gushed out onto Ilya's pants. The lingering heat on his ass amplified every pulse until he had nothing left to give. Ilya eased him through it, palm rubbing slowly over the sensitive skin. He certainly did a number on the poor guy. When Shane finally stopped trembling, Ilya leaned in to press a kiss into the back of his thigh. "I hope you don't like this rug too much. You made a mess." Ilya teased softly.
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malicious compliance by heydoeydoey
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-16
It’s supposed to be an honor, being chosen for the All-Star game, especially being named a captain, recognition from the league and the fans and other players. Shane didn’t know until now it could feel like this, too, like a punishment.
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Shane wipes his eyes, still catching his breath. "What, you don't have any Russian towns with rude names?" Ilya's dark brows knit together, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling as he mentally catalogs his homeland's geography. His fingers drum against the countertop, leaving small prints in the dusting of protein powder Shane spills. "There is Dobrye Pchely? Means kind bees." Shane's laughter fades into a soft, genuine smile. "Okay, but that is fucking adorable." He leans his hip against the counter and takes in the morning light catching the stubble on Ilya's jaw. "How is Russia cuter than Canada?" he marvels, voice warm with affection. Ilya's shoulders square defensively, chin jutting forward. "Russia is not cute. We have sensible names, not pant names!" "There's also a town called Dildo," Shane tells him, eyebrows raised in challenge.
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all I’m thinking about (guess, guess, guess) by captinkirc
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-15
Shane crossed his arms as he leant back against the side of the Jeep, and stared right back. For just a moment Ilya’s momentum stuttered – from the look he gave him, Shane thought he might launch out of the car at him. "Later,” he mouthed at him, and Ilya puffed up his cheeks and pouted before slamming the door shut behind him. OR: Both Shane and Ilya are addicted to the challenge, in all parts of their lives. Now Ilya has to wait, and Shane has to deal with the consequences once Ilya finally gets his hands on him.
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the planets and the fates and all the stars aligned by stardustvx
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-14
Shane Hollander has his dick down Rozanov’s throat when there is a knock on his hotel room door. That wouldn’t be an issue if it wasn’t his mother and he hadn’t given his extra keycard to her earlier in the day.
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can't cool me down by king_of_the_slutty_rats
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-13
Shane tries his best to focus on the game, but Ilya Rozanov is making it increasingly hard to pay attention to anything but him. or Five times Ilya Rozanov tries to get Shane's attention while on the ice, and the one time Shane gives it to him.
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and here’s to my real friends by writinginasnowglobe
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-13
Shane loved the Centaurs. He really did. They felt like a second family, and Shane would never take that for granted. They had one flaw, however. Boundaries, for some reason, seemed to be a foreign concept to the entire team.
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"I play,” Ilya said, his voice a deadpan rasp, “because if I do not play, my father make me work at potato factory. I hate potatoes. I want to buy car that goes fast enough to scare God." Or Clips and photos of Ilya's teenage years in Russia get leaked.
- Part 1 of Unhinged_Ilya_Rozanov.mp4
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we could be pro fortnite (hockey) players by icicledust
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-12
The sounds of gun fire filled the living room as Ilya grunted and cursed as he chased someone down in Fortnite. He had discovered a love for the game about a year or so ago when the Cens did one of their children’s hospital outings and found himself playing in his spare time. And being out on a rather nasty ankle injury, he certainly had the spare time. Or, Ilya is going stir crazy and Fortnite gives him a reason to be a little bit of a menace.
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Ilya welcomes Shane to the Centaurs by playing a prank on him. Shane retaliates. They have always been competitive. Based on real pranks NHL players have played on each other. (Mainly the Penguins)
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Is normal. Building is just excited. (And other lies Ilya told himself while wearing the captain's jersey) by Nullevoy
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
He waited. The ref held the puck. Then, a sound echoed through the arena. Maaaaaa. Ilya froze. He looked at the ref. The ref looked at him. From the Zamboni entrance, a goat trotted out onto the ice. It was a small, brown-and-white goat wearing a tiny, custom Boston scarf. Or The captain's jersey is cursed, it takes a while for Ilya to notice.
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- #77394806
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Shane comes down the hall, hands shoved in his pockets, making eyes at Ilya that beg "please behave" and behind him is Rose Fucking Landry. The actress. The woman Ilya had seen in the club, her hand up Shane's shirt. The woman Shane had fucked. Twice. They are doing nothing when the doorbell chimes. Well, not nothing; they are, as Shane would say, relaxing. On the couch in front of a movie neither of them is really watching, feet up, Shane leaning back against him, his hand in Shane's hair. They have fucked, showered, eaten and Ilya is scrolling his phone thinking idly about tempting Shane into something that would require another shower when it happens. Shane sits up, looks at him. "They are your parents," Ilya says. Since the conversation with Shane's parents three days earlier, David and Yuna Hollander have been very careful, very polite, about texting or calling before showing up to the cottage, but. The doorbell chimes again. Shane pushes up off the couch. "I'm sure they just forgot something," he says, an apology. "Be right back." He is not right back. Over the low volume the television, Ilya cannot make out the words but he hears Shane's tone of surprise and then a high feminine voice that is definitely not Yuna Hollander's. Ilya hits the MUTE button, trying to listen, but still the words are indecipherable, although Shane's voice is getting closer, along with the click clack of high heels on the tile. Ilya stands up. Shane comes down the hall, hands shoved in his pockets, making eyes at Ilya that beg "please behave" and behind him is Rose Fucking Landry. The actress. The woman Ilya had seen in the club, her hand up Shane's shirt. The woman Shane had fucked. Twice. She is thinner and taller than Ilya remembered, and her mouth drops open when she recognizes him. "This is, um, Rose," Shane says, gesturing to Rose Landry like a host on a game show. "Rose, this is Ilya, my, um . . ." "Boyfriend," Ilya supplies. "Yeah, um," Shane says. "Ilya Rozanov?" Rose shouts happily, punching Shane in the arm. "You're dating Ilya Rozanov?" "Yes," Ilya says. "This is what 'boyfriend' means." "Can I hug you?" Rosa asks, coming down the stairs into the living room. "I have to hug you! I am such a fan. Your mid-air tip-in against Philadelphia was just the most amazing shot I've ever seen!" "Okay," Ilya says, because that was, in fact, an excellent goal, and Rose bounces into his arms, gives him a quick professional hug. She smells like citrus perfume. Over her shoulder, Shane mouths sorry. Ilya glares at him. *** While Rose freshens up and calls her people to let them know she's arrived, Shane drags him into the bedroom. "I'm sorry," he says before Ilya can even speak. "We made plans before you said you would come and I forgot to call her and—" "She cannot stay here." Ilya shakes his head, pacing back and forth in front of the windows. He can still smell her perfume. "She should go, now. Back to Ottawa." "It's almost ten," Shane says. "It's a two-hour drive." "So? Her car has lights, yes? What is the problem?" Ilya flings his hands up. Shane steps in front of him, stopping him. "Ilya. C'mon." "She is your ex-girlfriend," Ilya complains. "I. Am. Gay," Shane says and then glances over his shoulder like he's afraid someone's listening. That, that right there, is why Ilya does not want Rose to stay. This was supposed to be their time, their private time, and now here is someone else who has fucked Shane and he is supposed to be nice and let her stay? "You have female friends," Shane is saying. "Why can't I have female friends?" "My friends are not here, Shane!" Ilya protests. "I didn't tell you I wanted to marry her, Ilya," Shane snaps back, and okay. That is fair. Ilya sighs. "Tomorrow." Shane grimaces. "Actually, her flight's on Sunday afternoon, so . . ." "Two days?" "A day and half," Shane says, rubbing his hands up and down Ilya's arms. "Please. She's a good friend. Please." Ilya scowls, but they both know the decision has already been made. Rose Fucking Landry will be staying until Sunday afternoon. *** "Be nice," Shane hisses back at him when they come out of the bedroom.
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Shane Hollander Can Pull by orphan_account
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
The MLH starts live-streaming a Mic'd up player every week. Unfortunately, Ilya forgets he's being streamed live to half a million people. Meanwhile, Shane Is gearing up to punch the next person to say he can't pull.
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Ilya Rozanov has seen the tape on Hollander, seen his blazing speed and his quick hands, his almost psychic ability to know where the puck will be. Hollander is a magician on the ice, the best prospect in the world except for Ilya himself. But up close, Hollander looks young. Soft. Western. He has big eyes and freckles across his nose like a little kid. He is attractive in the way that many young men are attractive, his face not yet hardened by the work of the real world, and he seems nervous to be out here, nervous to be seen with Ilya. Because Ilya has been forced to learn everything about Hollander, Ilya knows that Hollander is older than him, not much, a few weeks. But looking at him, Ilya feels weary and old. He hates that.
- Part 1 of Bad Thing
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Dancin' with my eyes closed by stargazingstormtrooper92
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-06
"Sorry. Just realized something just now.," Ilya laughs. "What?" "Loons," Ilya says and laughs again. "Loons?" Yuna repeats confused. "When I went to the cottage last summer Shane made fun of me because I never heard the loon call before. I was so scared. I called it stupid canadian wolf bird," Yuna lets out a little laugh, Ilya continues - "I just realized that these ducks on my baby blanket, they look like..." "Loons," Yuna finishes with smile tugging on her lips. "Yes. Loons. Shane will make fun of me," Ilya groans but not maliciously. He takes the blanket out of Yuna's hands and brings it to his face, trying to see if it still smells like home, like his mom. But the smell was gone and his heart lurches. (...) "Tell me the stories. All of them." *** Or: Ilya has the flu when he recieves a package from Svetlana containing his childhood memorabilia from Russia. Mother son duo Ilya Rozanov and Yuna Hollander strikes again ❤
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“Shane,” Ilya whispers. “Yes?” “What is wrong?” “Nothing,” Shane says. “It’s great.” “Hollander. You look like you will throw up or cry into fire. Both will ruin mood.” --- Shane and Ilya have to leave the cottage eventually. Shane spirals about it. Ilya makes it better. Shane is trying very much to enjoy his last evening with Ilya at the cottage. He is trying so much that he feels queasy. All he can think about as Ilya strokes his back and kisses his hair while they sit by the fire, is less than fourteen hours now. Thirteen and a half. Thirteen and a quarter. He can’t bear thinking of Ilya leaving, but he also can’t not think about it for even a second. “Shane,” Ilya whispers. “Yes?” “What is wrong?” “Nothing,” Shane says. “It’s great.” “Hollander. You look like you will throw up or cry into fire. Both will ruin mood.” And Shane definitely can’t tell Ilya what’s actually wrong because then he won’t just have ruined what’s left of the mood, he’ll have completely destroyed it, and then Shane fucking up will cast a shadow over their entire time here and Ilya will always think that it wasn’t actually that good and maybe he won’t want to come back, ever, and - “Shane. You said to say what we really feel while we are here. Say what you need.” “Fuck me,” Shane says. “Make me stop thinking about tomorrow.” Ilya kisses him, softly. “Okay,” he says. “Would you like it if I take these dishes inside and clean up and you go to bed and get yourself ready for me?” A gasp escapes Shane’s mouth, he can’t help it. The thought of lying in his bed, opening himself up while Ilya is loading the dishwasher down the hall, has him half-hard already. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Ilya grins, and kisses him again. “Get started. I will see you in few minutes.” Only once he’s naked and fucking himself open with two fingers does Shane realise that he left the bedroom door wide open. It wasn’t on purpose, not really, except somehow it was. He can hear the clinks of cutlery and plates, the sliding of the dishwasher racks. He closes his eyes and pictures Ilya moving around the kitchen, unhurried, sure that Shane will be ready exactly when Ilya will want him. Shane still can hardly believe that Ilya is here, much less how settled he seems. But he won’t be settled here any more in thirteen hours. Shane forces his thoughts back to the present. Ilya will be with him soon. Shane wants to be ready, wants Ilya to be proud of him. Ilya will make him forget all about tomorrow. Just the anticipation is driving Shane wild. He wraps his free hand around his cock, stroking himself a couple of times, just to take the edge off a little. It doesn’t work, and he ends up moaning more loudly than he intended. He hears Ilya laugh from across the hallway. “Hollander, slow down. I still have to soak pans!” “Asshole,” Shane shouts. He opens his eyes again to glare at the open door. “Fucking hurry!” “No,” Ilya calls back to him. “Have to be thorough. Otherwise will be nightmare to clean. You like everything very clean, no?” Shane groans, half in frustration, half in arousal. But he can’t tell Ilya not to soak the pans. They can’t just leave them out on the counter all night without soaking them. That would be crazy. “Maybe I stay in kitchen for a while,” Ilya sing-songs. “Make cup of tea. Ah, here is camomile. Very healthy. You want tea?” “Fuck you, Rozanov!” Ilya laughs again. “So impatient, Hollander. I told you, slow down.” Shane curses some more but obeys, stops working himself open and just brushes his fingers over the most sensitive spots, sighing and enjoying the sensation, little sparks up his spine. And soon Ilya will be here. Soon Ilya will take Shane out of his head, and maybe they’ll say I love you again. Maybe Ilya will say it in Russian again, too. Ya tebya lyublyu. Shane looked it up the other day. He plans to practise saying it until he thinks it sounds okay, as close to Ilya’s pronunciation as he can manage. Then he’ll say it back to Ilya, so Ilya can hear that Shane loves him in his own language. He loses himself a little, floating for a couple of minutes, maybe longer. Eventually, he hears Ilya’s steps and comes out of it, starting to panic. He’s not ready yet. He got too distracted, too calm, enjoyed himself too much, stopped focusing on the objective. He was meant to get himself ready for Ilya to be able to fuck him straight away, and now he isn’t. Ilya looks stunning stepping into the room, framed by the light shining in through the doorway behind him. He’s already lost most of his clothes in the hallway by the look of things. He kneels on the bed, hungrily raking his eyes over Shane. “Sorry,” Shane whispers. “I was too slow, I’m not quite there yet -” “Hollander,” Ilya says firmly. “Is no hurry. I told you to slow down. You slowed down. You are perfect. Always, always good for me.” Shane has no idea why the words hit like they do, but fuck do they ever. He starts up properly again, arching his spine, pushing back against his own fingers. “Fucking gorgeous,” Ilya murmurs.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,200
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77166276
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all this effort, to make it look effortless by icicledust
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
Ilya wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. He was positive he didn’t have a concussion, he had landed on his shoulder. But everything had happened so fast his brain was having trouble catching up. Ilya tries his hardest to not worry Shane, but it’s nearly impossible to not worry the love of your life. Especially when you hit the ice hard during a game.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,327
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77050001
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He thinks of the cottage, the call with Hayden. As his mind wanders back to that day, to the cheeky grin on the Russian’s face as he had looked up at him, Shane’s fingers wander over Ilya’s chest and sides, straying to his belly at times. He wished they could do that again, which is silly. Or is it? ___ Ilya is on the phone with Svetlana. Shane is on his knees for him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,743
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77069591