141 – 160 of 192 Works in Dirty Talk

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  1. “What do you say?” Ilya asks, halting his movement to kiss Shane. Shane’s eyes widen and his heart rate picks up. “Please.” “Good.” Ilya holds either side of Shane’s face and brings him into an almost violent kiss. Teeth clash against teeth, noses smash together, and neither of them care if it hurts.

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  2. Shane’s back arches up, and Ilya’s hand presses him back down. Shane struggles against Ilya, but he knows that he doesn’t really want to win. He wants Ilya to keep him pinned; to keep him in his control. “Stay still,” Ilya says. His hand presses down on Shane’s chest a little harder each time he squirms. Shane grunts something out that almost sounds like fuck you, Rozanov in between panting breaths. His head is buried in his arms, eyes screwed shut with effort, trying to keep himself still while Ilya fucks him.

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  3. shane and ilya try bdsm for the first time after their cottage getaway, and it doesn’t exactly go as shane had thought it would. (google didn't tell him he would sub-drop on their first try). canon universe hollanov, post-cottage and episode 6, subdrop!shane, dom!ilya

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  4. Hayden Pike has just discovered Ilya Rozanov's plans to murder Shane Hollander, and he is panicking, ok? Or- Ilya and Shane's odd foreplay leave poor Hayden in a frazzle with the implications of Ilya Rozanov lurking in the shadows of a parking lot, licking his teeth like a wolf. (Multiple POV's)

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  5. feeling vindicated by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
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    2025-12-30

    Shane Hollander is gay and at this point the whole world knows this – his husband most of all. This fact was confirmed millenia ago… and yet, the mere mention of that woman causes indescribable jealousy to flare up inside Ilya Rozanov. It literally has nothing to do with Rose Landry, she is a great friend to Shane and, at this point, she is a great friend to him as well. He loves her as much as Shane loves her. Why then is the green-eyed monster ever present when they joke about their past relationship? Perhaps he needs to discuss his jealousy issues and possessiveness with his therapist… or he could simply remind his husband who he belongs to. Ilya prefers the latter, especially when he has things to prove wrong.

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  6. It seems Ilya fucking Rozanov adheres to a daily schedule of tomfoolery. He’s always finding ways to irritate Shane with the stupidest shit. or, Ilya ragebaits Shane as a form of flirting. Somehow it works.

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  7. "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?"

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  8. Smoking Hot by

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    2025-12-29

    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.

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  9. “My fucking god, Hollander, you talk so much,” Rozanov says and Shane clenches his jaw. "I am not trying to set you up with Dom friend!”

    “What then? You came to rub it in or–”

    Rozanov throws his hands up in defeat and snaps, “Am trying to say; Hollander, I am Dom and I will Play with you, but you talk so fucking much I can not say this!”

    Shane freezes. There’s no laughter now. His stomach swoops and plummets. 

    “That’s not funny.”

    “Do I look like I am laughing, Hollander? Am serious.”

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  10. think back to what you said and I turn red, I'm turning red Or: Ilya makes a request of Shane, and by fulfilling it, he learns something new about himself.

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  11. After returning to the cottage, Shane and Ilya can't keep their hands to themselves. There's lots of shameless sex, happiness, and talks about toys only mentioned in passing years ago. — Or what happened at the cottage post s01e06.

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  12. Ilya steps into the room and closes the door behind him. “Sorry I took long. I had hockey practice.” “I know. Don’t worry about it. Please, have a seat.” Shane allows himself a small, private smile as Ilya approaches and drops into the chair in front of him. His hair looks slightly damp as runs a hand through it, a blond curl falling back over his eyes. Shane crosses his legs beneath the desk and swallows.“So," he mumbles, suddenly unsure how to begin. This is already harder than he thought it would be. "How are things looking this season?” Ilya shrugs. "Good. We fuck now?" “Ilya!” Shane blurts, yanking his glasses off and dropping them onto the desk with a clatter. So much for a night of roleplay. -- or where shane wants to try being more dominant, and ilya lets him think he'll allow it

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  13. way below the belt by

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    2025-12-28

    Shane adjusted his tie for the third time, his skin prickling with awareness of the toy nestled deep inside him. Shane's muscles tensed under his shirt, his reactive nature making him hyper-aware of the remote tucked in Ilya's pocket. Ilya leaned close as he passed, his breath warm against Shane's ear. “Behave,” Shane's voice cracks. "I-I'm fine, just a h-headache." The lie burns in his throat as he forces a smile, his hand trembling against the back of his neck, eyes darting anywhere but at Hayden. Completely unaware of the hand climbing Shane’s inner thigh, fingers pressing into the tender flesh just below his groin. Shane's pulse hammers against his collar as sweat beads at his hairline. Shane's adam' s apple lurches violently. He can feel Ilya's smirk burning into his profile without looking. He bites down on his tongue, tasting copper. Ilya's presence sears into his left side, while his other hand makes a show of adjusting something in his pocket. The vibrations suddenly intensify, sending a violent shudder through Shane's core. His vision blurs at the edges. Shooting electricity up his spine. His knuckles go white against the leather seat. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip as Ilya's grip becomes bruising, fingers digging into the flesh through the soft black material. Leaning in, hot breath scorching Shane's ear: " Get yourself together, Hollander," each syllable dripping with that Russian growl that makes Shane pathetically weak. Fucking. Sadistic. Asshole. And all because of one goddamn bet. Only two hours earlier he was in the comfort of his own home. Steam billows from the bathroom as the door swings open. Ilya emerges, towel riding dangerously low on sharp hip bones, droplets racing down the planes of his chest and disappearing beneath the white terry cloth. Shane's fingers trace the edges of a small brown parcel on the kitchen counter. Ilya Rozanov, the label reads in neat block letters. Below that: Shane's address, his apartment number. Ilya freezes mid-step. The corner of his mouth twitches upward. "This showed up today." Shane lifts the box slightly. "Your name. My place." Ilya's bare feet pad across the hardwood. He plucks the package from Shane's grip with long fingers, his knuckles brushing Shane's palm. "Mine," he says, placing it on the far edge of the counter, just beyond Shane's reach. "So I don't get to see what's inside?" Ilya reaches for a pair of grey joggers draped over the arm of the couch, pulling them on with a fluid motion. "It's for you, actually." Shane's stomach flips. The NHL26 loading screen bathes their faces in blue light as they sink into the sofa, controllers in hand. Shane's eyes dart to the kitchen every thirty seconds. The box sits there, taunting him. His birthday was ages ago, their anniversary wasn’t for another couple months, Today is... nothing. His player skates past the puck. Again. The controller vibrates with another missed opportunity. Ilya's score climbs: 3-0, 5-0, 7-0.

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  14. “And the both of you just assumed that, what? Jackie and I would just play along? Did either of us even factor into this stupid thing, outside of making us cum?” Shane asks, crossing his arms. He looks annoyed, one of Ilya's favorite emotions to see painted across his face. “Or was this all about your giant fucking ego?”

    Ilya smirks, and Shane groans, throwing a pillow at his face. “Don't even fucking start.”

    “Me?” Ilya says, buzzed and happy, thrilled to be irritating Shane as always. “Ego is not the only thing giant about me.”

    OR: Hayden & Ilya make a bet. Shane (and Jackie) win.

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  15. “Listen to me, Hollander,” Ilya’s voice is commanding, intense. That same tone that he uses to make Shane turn liquid in his arms. “You are going to do exactly as I say—” Shane nods furiously, now desperate to get behind the privacy screen of the limousine. “We are going to get in the car together, you are going to put your filthy mouth to work, and I am going to use your throat to keep my cock hard until we get back to the hotel.” Shane makes the only echoing sound in the hallway: a pitchy whine that has Ilya’s cock throbbing. “When we arrive, we are going straight to my room. Understood?” Shane nods, but Ilya wants to test his teammate to see just how much he can push tonight. Ilya swallows. “Answer me, Hollander.” “Y—yes,” Shane rasps, quiet but determined as he looks at Ilya like he could break Shane in half and he would thank him. “Yes, Ilya.”

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  16. “Rozy—shit,” he manages, voice strangled, want bubbling molten and inescapable in his gut, hips trembling with the force of not rudely bucking up into Rozanov’s warm, far too talented mouth. Because I just wanted you to fuck me, he thinks after he’ s finished making Shane unravel with soft, unforgiving motions, as Rozanov—as Ilya—laves his tongue hungrily over the mess dripping down the planes of his abdomen, blinking overwhelmed tears away from the diminuendo of pleasure. But then I became greedy. And now all I want is for you to love me. Or: despite the initial fear, the world doesn't end when Shane Hollander realizes he loves Ilya Rozanov. Now, he just has to convince Ilya of that same truth. An adjusted timeline. A collection of moments. A story about completing someone, despite the odds.

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  17. “Have you ever fucked yourself all the way through after you’ve come?” he asked, his warm, broad frame taking up the entire expanse of Shane’s back, and Shane’s brain was already hazy with the heady feeling of Ilya all around him. “What?” he asked slowly, trying to force his brain to catch up with what Ilya was saying. “Just what I said,” Shane could feel Ilya’s hard cock at the base of his spine, “Have you kept going after you’ve come?” He tried to think, even as Ilya’s distracting mouth was on his neck again. His breath stuttered, but Ilya was persistent, “Tell me.” “I don’t-” he shook his head slightly, like his ears were filled with water, “I don’t think so.” Or, Ilya pushes Shane to his limit.

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  18. “You’re being difficult.” “I am not being difficult, Hollander, you are the one being difficult and annoying.” “I just don’t see what the big deal is,” Shane had his phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder as he moved around his kitchen, making breakfast, “It’s not like it’s some kind of classified information.” “Is just not important,” Ilya said evasively, and Shane could hear the sound of his fridge opening on the other end. “I think your birthday is very important,” Shane said stubbornly, setting his glass down a little harder than he meant to, so that it clacked against the countertop, “I don’t know why you’re acting like this about it.”

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  19. “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.

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  20. “Russians don’t blush, starshine.”

    “And guys don’t squirt, Ilya.”

    A snowboarding trip turns into a filthy, intimate challenge when Ilya decides to prove a point—repeatedly—in the most overwhelming ways possible.

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