Griselda
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He watches Hollander’s eyes track over the laundry detergent sitting on a shelf, the amount in the hamper and back to the machine, and it’s as obvious as if he’s got a little thought bubble actually hovering above his head— “you want to start a load of laundry,” he says, snickering a little.
“It’s just— we’re on the road again in two days, and all my normal stuff is dirty,” Shane says, reaching for the hamper and sifting through to grab only the lighter colors.
“Okay,” Ilya says. He’s still hard, and he presses a hand to the bulge under his pants, ostentatious, a blatant display as Hollander turns to look at him. “You do your household chore in middle of sexy hookup. I will go get naked and lie in your bed, and if you can tear yourself away, maybe you get there in time for me to get inside you before I come.”
Hollander’s eyes darken, flickering down to Ilya’s hand pressed against his groin. “Uh. Give me like. Thirty seconds. A minute.”
And, indeed, it can’t be longer than a minute later that Hollander is naked and climbing on top of Ilya on the bed, the low rumble of the washing machine providing a soundtrack to their embrace.
Bookmarked by Griselda
25 Feb 2026
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Be Simple With Me by distira
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
15 Jan 2026
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Shane swipes out of a few notifications from the ESPN app, all clickbait about Scott Hunter’s speech at the NHL awards. He can’t deal with those right now, his brain is not online. Then he sees the Snapchat notification, from Ilya.
Shane puts his phone down and blinks a few times. He picks it up and checks the display again. The notification is still there.
He hasn’t gotten a Snap from Ilya since the end of the season back in April, after they crashed out of the Frozen Four without making it to the final. Shane saw him a few times after that, at team meetings and at the annual sports awards dinner, but he’s pretty sure Ilya left campus before the end of the semester. Shane wasn’t expecting anything from him until the fall, when he’s back at school.
He rubs his eyes and rolls onto his side, swiping the app open. It’s a video.
or, the boys are in college, featuring self discovery, russian diminutives, and (to ilya's chagrin) the scott hunter of it all.
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Bookmarked by Griselda
18 Feb 2026
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Bookmarked by Griselda
17 Feb 2026
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Shane does not pull away, does not speak, does not kiss him again, just holds him like it is easier than letting him go, rocking them slowly back and forth on the edge of the mattress. There is a damp patch on his very nice new shirt where Ilya has failed to swallow back his tears, but he is cradling Ilya to him, anyway, like it doesn’t matter. Like it costs him nothing to do it.
Nobody has touched Ilya this way in a very, very long time. He had forgotten that it was possible to be handled with care—to be treated like a breakable object, instead of a broken one.OR: What happened in the hotel room after the Tampa Bay All-Stars Game.
Bookmarked by Griselda
16 Feb 2026
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On the anniversary of his mother's death, Ilya tries to forget. He has a game to play, a team to captain, and plans with Hollander after. It should be enough. But grief is heavy; it weighs down everything else.
"Fuck you," Hollander said. He inhaled deeply and clenched his fists at his sides. Ilya could see the knot of Hollander's jaw working and braced himself for a hit, jaw loosened, shoulders straight. Hollander searched his face, eyes dark and quick, and Ilya raised an eyebrow, gave him a short nod. Idly he wondered if they might actually fuck, once Hollander had evened the score. While he waited for Hollander to make up his mind Ilya tried to think of how to suggest it, like, Will help with tension or Make up sex, yes?, and his own thoughts struck him as so absurd that he was halfway to laughing when Hollander grabbed his face and kissed him.
Bookmarked by Griselda
12 Feb 2026