Cyndra03



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    Ilya thought he knew everything there was to know about Shane's sexual habits. His quirks. How his gag reflex is almost non-existent, how his ass craves to be filled if he goes too long without it, how he loves to be kissed so much that, if Ilya really tries, he can get Shane off just by sucking his tongue.

    He's never once heard about Shane being good at eating pussy.

    Or: Ilya overhears that his totally-casual-sitationship was very good at munching and has a jealous fit about it.

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    04 Jun 2026

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    Shane knows he shouldn't, and yet he still does, or: every hookup Shane and Ilya should've had between 2011 and 2013. Because TV budgets aren't infinite, but our need for smut between these two is. Featuring: bruise sucking! Deepthroating! Intercrural! Shane removing Ilya's clothing with his teeth! Edging! The boys being extremely goofy! And so much more.

    They shuck all their clothing off—Shane doesn’t even bother to fold his, he’s too hungry, too impatient—but as he moves to pull Rozanov towards him and into bed, he’s arrested by Rozanov’s grip on his forearm.

    He follows the direction of Rozanov’s gaze and finally remembers: the bruise. He hasn’t paid much attention to it. Hasn’t felt it, really, since Rozanov has stepped into the room.

    It’s a real beauty, about the size of his palm, and dark purple-blue. Rozanov is staring at it like he’s hypnotized.

    “I did that,” he says, half question, half statement.

    “Probably,” Shane says.

    “No, it was me,” Rozanov says, and this time he sounds absolutely certain. He brushes gentle fingertips over it; Shane shivers.

    NOTE: Make sure you have creator's work skins enabled for the best experience

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    30 May 2026

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    Ilya ignored the request from the NHL twice. The first time they asked through his agent, the second time the director of marketing called his personal number directly. He never got along with the league as a player, and he certainly didn't need to make them happy now.

    The next attempt to reach him was harder to ignore. A phone call from an unknown number. A voicemail that made his blood run cold.

    "Hi Ilya. This is Rose Landry. We've never met, but Shane speaks so highly of you. I think the NHL has been trying to get in touch. Shane said you probably wouldn't talk to them. But...think about it, ok? I know it would mean a lot to him."

    The final request crumbled his resolve. The caller ID blinked "Jane," and Ilya stared at it.

    ***
    Canon divergence, Shane and Ilya are estranged for a decade. Shane finally reaches out to Ilya when he retires.

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    28 May 2026

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    Ilya Rozanov’s opponents would describe him as a brutal savage with a dirty record, known for hitting after the bell’s gone off. Spectators would describe him as a cocky spitfire with the stats to back it up, dollar bills passed around like candy whenever he was in the cage. Commentators would describe him as a barreling force of nature with a promising legacy. Weighing in at a hundred and eighty-five pounds of raw muscle, he was the son of Grigori Rozanov, notorious Russian street fighter, and he pulled no punches, so to speak.

    Shane would describe Ilya Rozanov as a fucking asshole with, admittedly, a pretty clean uppercut. Hardly any of the matches he’d watched him win had lasted the full five minutes.

    *

    AU. Shane first introduces himself to Ilya Rozanov ten minutes before they’re slotted to beat the shit out of each other in front of a live audience. They go together like fire and gasoline.

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    08 May 2026

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    All in all, it could have been worse.

    It’s not like you can measure the full length of Shane’s dick, or see the exact moment that Ilya swallows down the mess of spit and his own cum from Shane’s mouth after he sucked the life out of him.

    It’s just, well, everything else.

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    08 May 2026