121 – 140 of 204 Works in Dirty Talk
- Dirty Talk ×
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Shane needs a break at a charity gala, luckily Ilya knows exactly what he needs.
- Part 2 of hollanov’s filthy escapades
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,092
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77401501
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Ilya's been carrying the weight of a playoff series on his shoulders. Shane has a plan to make him forget all of it. Starting with two silk scarves and the headboard. ~~~ "Fuck my mouth." Shane stroked him with a slick hand, spreading the mess of spit and precum. "Use me. I want to feel you in my throat tomorrow." "Shane." Ilya's voice was strangled. "Baby, I don't want to hurt you." "You won't." Shane held his gaze, licking his lips. "I want to gag on you. Please, Ilya." Something snapped behind Ilya's eyes. "Open your mouth."
- Part 5 of Stolen Moments
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,299
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77244926
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Ring the Bells That Still Can Ring by toomuchplor
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
It wasn't any easier the second time Shane got his bell rung. It was actually quite a lot worse.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,825
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77271711
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Hollanov NSFW Sketches by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
A place for my half-baked Hollanov NSFW. It was inevitable folks. This is NSFW fanart.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 0
- Chapters:
- 8/?
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77266151
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Rozanov posts on Instagram a lot. Not on his feed, but his stories. Every time he lands in a city, he posts a story. Usually it's just back of his seat, or sometimes the view out the window—on the tarmac, never anything exciting, one of just many cities their lives are broken up into—and a location tag. Low effort. It’s pretty obvious what it is. Guys laugh about it, call it Rozanov’s Fuck Signal. The easiest way to get the hot girls who follow him to slide into his DMs. Easy pussy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,682
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77262141
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Ilya silently yearns for frat boy Shane Hollander and his backwards hat, he swears he hates him so why is he in a bathroom on his knees?
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,034
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77174901
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“I told you it was supposed to be a surprise asshole,” Shane whispers and it was only then that Ilya finally noticed the razor in his hand and the notch of hair missing from Shane’s perfect pussy. Ilya’s throat goes dry and his hand reaches out to thumb at the perfectly smooth area. Ilya helps Shane shave.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,374
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77189856
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Ilya knots Shane’s mouth. It’s unbearably intimate. Also, Shane’s heat is approaching, and Ilya’s softest, comfiest clothes have gone missing. Shane doesn’t nest, but he may have built a large, incredibly comforting pseudo-nest in his bed. Made entirely of Ilya’s clothes. Ilya🤍: How is throat feeling today? 😈 Shane: 🖕
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,647
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77188781
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The next direct flight from Montreal to Moscow leaves around five a.m. He looks up at the clock in the top corner of his phone screen, thinking. It's close eleven now. Ilya must still be on Boston time if he's up that early. He hits "add to cart" before he can stop himself and the next thing he knows, he's got a flight confirmation code in his email. OR : Shane goes to Russia for Ilya's father's funeral. And the Russian confession is said to his face instead of over the phone.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,880
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77217991
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“Touch me,” he pants, “please, Ilya. Touch me.” “Where?” He broods, resting his chin on Shane’s knee, waiting. The view is magnificent. There’s no other way he’d want to start the new year. “You know where, Ilya, please.” “Where, baby?” “My pussy,” he gasps, flushed pink. Ilya groans, “So wet, baby. Good girl. How do you want it?” “Ilya!” He smiles, “Tell me how you touched your other girls.” “Not now, Ilya.” “Tell me." He demands, "What do you girls like? How should I play with your pussy?" or, It’s New Year’s Eve and Shane has something to share.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,243
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77083196
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It's New Years' Eve and Shane takes a Vodka-induced spiral through a level of jealousy he didn't know existed.
----
He looked over the rim of his glass, eyes immediately landing on Ilya’s laughing face on the other side of the club near the bar. He had his arm slung over Svetlana’s shoulders, her neck comfortably at the bend of his elbow. Shane’s teeth ground together when Ilya used the crook of his arm to pull Svetlana closer, Ilya's head tipping down to place his ear near her mouth.
It was Ilya’s turn to lean in to speak in Svetlana’s ear, a grin spreading over Svetlana’s gorgeous face as she listened to his words.
Shane could vividly imagine what Ilya’s voice would sound like at this point. It would be raspy and rough, like a rumble. He’d heard him sound like that a thousand times and Shane would never be sick of it. It made his chest tight, his heart hammering to think about the way Ilya’s soft lips would brush along his ear. How his tongue would lick up the shell before nipping at the spot under Shane’s ear that made him moan.
But he wasn’t doing any of that. He was talking to Svetlana. His friend.
- Part 4 of Stolen Moments
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 20,465
- Chapters:
- 6/6
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76956761
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matter of fact, i caught you lookin' back by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-05
“No,” he says, smiling gently, like he doesn't know how irritating he's being. “Is my room first, da? You should speak with front desk.”
Hollander stares at him.
And then he starts to laugh.
“You ask the front desk,” he shoots back, in between his odd wheezes. Ilya's heart starts to pound in double time, because this is not—this cannot be Shane Hollander playing bed chicken with him. Their competitiveness is fierce, to be certain, but surely, Hollander would be the bigger person, no? “This is my fucking room, Rozanov. Wild horses couldn't drag me away.”
OR: Ilya's apartment is under construction. Shane's in town for a game. It'd be a shame if they somehow had the same hotel room.
[or, or: we need some more goddamn 'there was only one bed' out here.]
- Part 9 of heated rivalry masterlist
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 19,326
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76941361
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Because Ilya knew how Shane liked to be treated, and the Shane Hollander who dropped like a fucking rock from being denied in a filthy bathroom, even after begging for it with half the hockey world outside, would love dirty talk. Honestly, fuck his father, fuck homophobia, fuck English, and fuck his shitty brain from keeping them from having what Ilya was sure would be the best fucking sex of their lives. At the cottage, Ilya lets the most terrifying confession of his life slip when he tells Shane he loves him. On the bright side, now that Ilya's no longer afraid of blurting out his feelings during sex, this obviously meant he could step up his dirty talk beyond foreplay and muttered directions. But when Shane takes one of Ilya's commands literally and shuts down, they have to learn what they never had the safety to indulge in before this: honesty not only in how they fit together but what they choose to share.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,156
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77061701
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Since Shane’s Calvin Klein campaign dropped, it somehow escaped the hockey bubble entirely and spilled into the general public. There are countless TikToks now—not even from hockey fans, just regular people—posting about his husband in tight white briefs that leave very little to the imagination. Every sports show seems obligated to mention Shane Hollander’s Calvin Klein campaign. It’s inescapable in a way neither of them had expected. At first, Ilya thought it was fun. He was glad the world finally saw his husband as the sexy, talented man he’d always known him to be. He liked interacting with fan posts and edits, even sending them to Shane just to watch the way his face would immediately redden. But now, the public reaction is a little… much. or; Shane’s Calvin Klein campaign goes viral, not only in the hockey sphere, but all over the internet. Ilya tries (and fails) to not show his jealousy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,018
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76684136
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Picture this, Ilya wants to tell the naysayers and the haters, the pearl-clutchers and the busy-bodies. A cold, late afternoon in Ottawa during the throes of a winter hockey season. A warm, cozy two-story home in Rockcliffe Park, snowed-in with a tendril of smoke coming out of the chimney. Shane Hollander, hockey-playing god in human form and the dearest love of Ilya’s mortal life, bent over a dining table covered in pristine hockey cards of themselves while Ilya fucked into him from behind. Ilya and Shane have a combined 800 hockey cards to autograph. Shane wants to get the job done. Ilya has other ideas (and an unexpected use for that permanent marker).
- Part 3 of hollanov in every verse
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,426
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77031691
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something only you can have by bluerosebouquet
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-03
You look so pretty when you’re angry. Shane blinked, his insides pooling inside him, like hot wax inside the end of a candle. He glanced around at Rose and Miles, who were chattering loudly, paying him no mind. He hadn’t heard from him since he had left, or well, fled, his house that day. Shane had checked the thread between them more than once, just to see if maybe his phone was glitched, that he had sent him a message and it just didn’t make its way through. Shane’s traitorous heart thumped faster as he tapped on the message, half-hoping it was a mirage, some kind of delusion from one too many blows to the head. He was always met with the same two messages, the last ones before Shane had run, and everything had settled like a rock sinking into the calm surface of a lake. Or, Ilya drunk texts Shane.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,484
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77011601
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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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Proof of Concept by ThePromptWasntThisLong (shredded_potato)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-02
“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” Ilya purrs, voice dark as midnight. Shane’s entire face ignites. He shivers, nodding shyly, nerves raw. The answer slips free in a stammer that sounds like confession. “I just—w-wanted to know why… it felt good…” Ilya’s chuckle vibrates against his lips, equal parts heat and fondness. “You looked so guilty. Touching your bruise, trying so hard to stay quiet while your cock drooled.” His fingers wander higher, brushing Shane’s sticky erection through his shorts, drawing out a shuddering moan. “You loved it.” Shane discovers a new kink by accident; Ilya is more than happy to help him explore it.
- Part 11 of Cross-Checked & Kissed (smut oneshots)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,750
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76828981
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A strong arm caught him easily, guiding him back against the shelves. The force was inhuman but controlled and gentle. The vampire leaned in, close enough that Shane could feel the chill radiating from him. “I did not come here to frighten you,” he said softly, forehead nearly brushing Shane’s. “I came to ask you on a date.” The library had settled into its late-hour stillness. Most of the overhead lights had been extinguished, leaving only a handful of brass-shaded lamps burning overhead, their yellow glow casting long shadows across the reading tables and towering shelves. Dust hung faintly in the air, visible when Shane shifted beneath the light. The place smelled of old paper, leather bindings, and furniture polish. Shane sat alone at one of the long oak tables, collar loosened, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He scratched absently at the back of his neck as his eyes dragged over the same line of text for what felt like the hundredth time. The words refused to stick. His head throbbed faintly, and the wire frames of his spectacles pinched at his temples. The clock mounted high on the wall ticked loudly in the quiet. He let out a muted groan and dropped his forehead against the tabletop, careful not to knock his books over. “Now then,” came a voice from the aisle, firm but not unkind. “You know better than that, young man. No sleeping in the reading room.” Shane lifted his head and found the librarian approaching, a stern woman in sensible shoes pushing a cart stacked neatly with returned volumes. Her hair was pinned tight at the nape of her neck, her eyes sharp behind round lenses. “Sorry, ma’am,” Shane murmured, rubbing his face with both hands. There was no arguing it. He snapped his book shut, slid it into his satchel along with his notes, and cinched the strap tight. His studies could wait until morning. Tonight, his mind was finished. He shrugged into his dusty brown leather jacket, smoothing it down out of habit, then slung the satchel over his shoulder and made his way toward the heavy front doors. Outside, the cold greeted him sharply. Winter had settled in earnest, the air biting and dry as it rushed over his face. His nose stung immediately, cheeks flushing red as he exhaled into his cupped hands. The street was quiet, save for the distant hum of an automobile somewhere far off. He lingered beneath the stone archway, shifting on his feet to keep warm, before stepping out onto the path. A cloud of smoke drifted across his vision. He coughed softly and turned his head, squinting into the gloom. For a moment, he thought it was just shadow pooled against the building. Then he saw the ember. A bright orange glow flared briefly, illuminating a cigarette between pale fingers. Shane blinked and did a double take, turning fully now as the rest of the figure resolved itself under the lamplight. The man stood half-hidden near the wall, tall and broad-shouldered, coat collar turned up against the cold. Curly, light-colored hair fell loosely across his forehead. Even in the dim light, his skin appeared unnaturally pale. Shane felt suddenly aware of himself. Of the emptiness of the street. Of the late hour. The man was…handsome. A shiver ran down Shane’s spine. He gestured awkwardly toward the cigarette. “I don’t think you’re meant to smoke here,” he said, voice hesitant despite knowing full well he was right. “Oh?” The reply was smooth, accented, foreign in a way that made Shane’s shoulders tense. “There’s a notice,” Shane added, pointing toward the sign affixed near the entrance. He nodded once, lips pressed thin, and quickly walked off without waiting for a response. The following night arrived without ceremony. Shane found himself once again leaving the library late, satchel heavier this time with completed work. The path ahead was lit by tall streetlamps, their bulbs flickering softly as he walked beneath them. The cold crept through his coat, sharp and persistent. But it wasn’t the cold that made him uneasy. It was the feeling. That unmistakable prickle along his spine, the sense of being watched. Of footsteps that weren’t quite there. He told himself it was foolish, just nerves and imagination, but he didn’t turn around. Then a voice spoke from behind him. “Are you going to ignore me forever?" The words were smooth, carrying a thick Russian drawl that slid down his spine like ice. The sound of it echoed faintly in the open street. Shane yelped, nearly jumping out of his skin as he spun around, bag slipping off his shoulder. “What the fuck—?!” he shouted.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,944
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76932081
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Shane and Ilya attends a Japanese wedding ceremony. Ilya wears a traditional kimono. Shane proceeds to froth at the mouth.
- Part 2 of
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,425
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76937416