1 – 6 of 6 Works in Ruined Orgasms
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No limits, until him by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-09-29
“Eyes on me.” There is a sharp satisfaction as those eyes lift immediately to meet his again. “I need your name.” The man’s lashes flutter. “Shane, sir.” Ilya nods and lets his hand move through Shane’s hair. It is soft, and Shane leans into the touch, eyes closing briefly as if the contact alone is enough to ground him. The response is so natural that it gives Ilya pause. “Tell me about your limits.” Ilya doubts he is going to be close to any limits tonight, as Shane looks like he already had a pretty rough night. But he still needs to ask, good hygiene. A small smile appears on Shane’s face, he looks at Ilya deeply, eyes not wandering away as he speaks, “There are no limit, sir.” He looks at the disbelief appearing on Ilya’s face and offers, “I’m the house slave.” Or, Ilya didn’t come for attachment, but Shane, bruised, obedient, and unraveling, becomes the one thing he can’t leave broken.
- Part 3 of Soft things in hard places
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 142,524
- Chapters:
- 24/24
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #85891081
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“-moya rybka, I am sorry, sweet girl-” Ilya is saying, on his knees in the middle of their living room and patting the rug near him with what looks like devastation on his face as Anya continues to ignore him, curled up on Shane’s lap instead. Fresh off of several stacked events to fit them into a weekend–because Shane’s mom is nothing if not efficient when it comes to the deals she makes–Ilya got home only a few minutes ago, still in the outfit he’d left his Buzzfeed puppy interview in, which Anya had clearly not appreciated, sniffing him suspiciously after her initial excited greeting and then retreating to Shane immediately when he patted his thigh in welcome.
Shane is trying not to be obviously enjoying Ilya’s turmoil as much as he is, shifting Anya to lay on her back like a baby in one arm and cooing at her.
“I know, huh? Papa left and played with who knows how many other dogs, and the whole time you were here missing him. I bet he wasn’t even thinking about you, huh?”
“Hollander!” Ilya says, sounding scandalized. “Do not tell her that! Is not true!”
(collection of standalone fics/ficlets prompted by my own tumblr posts) (will update as inspiration strikes)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 62,977
- Chapters:
- 15/15
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #81626591
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pierce my two hands so you can see my devotion by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-04-03
5 times Ilya free uses Shane + 1 time Shane free uses Ilya
- Part 11 of off the ice (smutty hollanov one shots)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,788
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #82408991
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No, Ilya isn’t a martyr, but he isn’t selfish either. Tonight he wants to be selfish. Ilya wants to use Shane. He wants to use his willingness, his body, his everything to make himself feel better. It’s a truth. Maybe an ugly one, but one that he owes to both himself and to Shane to accept. Tonight will be about him. And Shane, for his part, is a willing participant in it all. ‘I want to be useful,’ he had said.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 15,974
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77637451
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“You are sure, Hollander?” Ilya grins with a glimmer of sympathy in his light blue eyes. Flashes of scenarios pass through Shane’s mind, not understanding where the rope will go, but Shane never backs down from a challenge. He puts on a fake smile, “Why not, Rozanov?” “Hello.” “Hi, Hollander.” Shane runs his hand through his freshly washed, jet black hair, trying to appear confident. But he can’t help how fast his eyes fall to Ilya’s bare chest, unable to match his gaze. Ilya, always endeared by Shane’s antisocial nature, speaks gently, “You look pretty. Just for me, huh?” “No.” Shane cheeks flush, aware of how he’s being analyzed. “I had to take a shower after the game.” “Ah,“ Ilya takes a step, closing the space between them, “I see.” His own appearance reflects the late hour. Shirtless in low hanging sweats, as his messy blond curls round his head like a halo. Shane’s eyes remain down, crossing his arms over his chest. Ilya pauses, always able to sense Shane’s caution when they’re together. He inhales, upset with his own strong and stubborn nature. He can’t afford to lose Shane. Now inches away, Ilya's nose fills with Shane’s familiar clean, floral scent, seemingly perfect to him. They don’t speak anymore. Instead, Ilya raises his right arm, caressing Shane’s soft cheek with his callused fingers. The stale hotel air becomes lighter knowing what comes next. Ilya’s rough fingertips trace along Shane’s pouty lips, instinctively relaxing his jaw and allowing Ilya’s thumb to enter his warm mouth. He sucks it, taking his rival as he so often does. Intoxicated by the heaviness of Ilya's finger lying on top of his tongue. He pulls him in until his smooth lips wrap around his bony knuckle, then pulls back, closing his eyes in complete bliss. Shane hums, hollowing his cheeks, completely fixated on the soothing feel in his mouth. Ilya’s own lips part in a trance, mumbling approval in his native Russian. He admires how peaceful Shane looks with closed eyes. His long, dark lashes lying above his lightly freckled skin, like a doll. Ilya leans in, replacing his thumb with his plump lips. They share a sloppy kiss, spit collecting at the corner of their mouths. Tongues cross over top of one another, shamelessly moaning as they unite. Ilya eagerly digs under Shane’s shirt, pulling the fabric over his head. They can’t stay away for more than a few seconds, like magnets, their lips crash together once again. Ilya’s top lip overtakes Shane’s shallow mouth, shoving his tongue deep inside, relishing in his submission. Ilya speaks into Shane's open mouth, “I have something.” Shane tilts his head back, “Yeah?” “Yes. Something for us to try.” “Okay,” Shane hesitates, dread filling his chest, hating surprises. Ilya turns away and picks up a paper bag that’s been tucked behind a chair. He opens it and pulls out a meter of rope that could have been purchased at any hardware store. Shane's eyebrows come together, confused, “For you?” Ilya’s face grows wide, showing off all his crooked teeth. He laughs in Shane’s face, “Ha- no, no, no.” He walks towards him holding the rope between their bare torsos, “For you.” Shane gulps, intrigued but uneasy, “Um, okay yeah.” He hates how nervous he sounds. He’s not as experienced as his partner, still slightly fearful of Ilya’s unpredictable dominance. “You are sure, Hollander?” Ilya grins with a glimmer of sympathy in his light blue eyes. Flashes of scenarios pass through Shane’s mind, not understanding where the rope will go, but Shane never backs down from a challenge. He puts on a fake smile, “Why not, Rozanov?” Shane’s suddenly being pushed backwards, landing fiercely onto the hard mattress. Ilya commands in his deep voice, “Arms up.” Shane obeys, revealing the dark hair in his pits beneath his sculpted triceps. Ilya sits on his chest, running the rough rope through his hands, stinging his palms. He grips Shane’s wrists together with one hand, keeping them in place. Shane whines from the sensitivity quickly finding its place around his thin skin. He watches Ilya’s face contort with concentration as he works above him. His chest rapidly rising and falling from anticipation. Shane wonders when Ilya learned how to do this, and how many other people have been below him, just waiting. Once his wrists are carefully tied together, Ilya extends the rope behind a rod of the bed’s headboard, trapping his arms above his head. Ilya mumbles under his breath, “Beautiful,” while moving off Shane's hard body. Shane automatically tries pulling his arms down, already uncomfortable in his position. The rope only rubs further against his wrists, a soreness quickly developing, keeping him motionless. He understands now, he’s stuck in a room with a feral animal, exposed and vulnerable to whatever it wants to do with him. Shane can only strain his neck forward to watch Ilya wander around the bed. The low light of the hotel room casts a deep shadow over Ilya's brow bone, blocking his eyes, only adding to Shane’s apprehension.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,849
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76489256
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Ilya annoys Shane by smoking after one of their late night hotel meet-ups (before The Cottage), and Shane finds out that he actually doesn’t hate smoking as much.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,316
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76679321