lightCyan
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help me get away from myself by littleghostkitty
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
14 Dec 2025
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“Why are you up?”
Scott’s head whips up and Shane is standing at the sink. But Scott can only look at the hickey, dark and possessive, on Shane’s neck. It sits like a wilting dahlia where his shirt slips off just above his collarbone, burgundy and obscene, and the hunger churns in Scott’s gut again.
Scott clears his throat, voice gruff. “Couldn’t sleep.”
The younger man hums and says, “You look tired.”
“What are you doing awake?” Scott asks. What are you doing awake after being fucked into the mattress by Ilya Rozanov three hours ago?
Scott isn’t sure what he’s expecting when he gets the apartment room next to Shane, but it’s certainly not to find out that his teammate and one of their biggest rivals have been fucking for months.
Bookmarked by lightCyan
31 Dec 2025
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Ilya’s hand wraps around his bare wrist and squeezes. Shane barely stops himself from collapsing to his knees.
The pressure lights up every receptor of his touch-starved nervous system, wrenching a small, pained noise from the back of his throat. Every muted sensation comes flooding back so intensely that it almost hurts. He needs Ilya to hold him down until there’s nothing inside him but quiet. He wants to sink into him and disappear.
It takes Shane an entire beat to remember where they are. Fighting against the fog in his mind, he manages to drag his gaze up to meet Ilya’s.
There’s a slow-dawning horror and understanding on Ilya’s face.
*
Or: Shane is in subdrop after their encounter in Vegas. Ilya fixes it.
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Bookmarked by lightCyan
31 Dec 2025
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He nuzzles against the exposed skin of his neck, inhaling the scent that clings to his suit jacket collar. It’s perfect.
“...Hollander,” He hears Rozanov say, urgent like it’s not the first time he’s said it. “Shane,” he follows it up with, and that snaps him out of it. He’s never called him that. Shane, reluctantly, lifts his face a little, eyes glazed over as he meets Rozanov’s eyes.
“What?”
“You stink,” Rozanov says, concern dripping. “No, you—fuck. You reek. What is—” Ilya’s fingers lift up, tugging at the scent patch, revealing more of the spot beneath it. Even Shane can smell himself at that point. He does reek. Reeks of heat, of Omega, of honey and sweetness, of something that would melt on your tongue.
Shane reefs himself back. The Omega inside him aches, mourns, whimpers at the loss of contact. It’s needed, though. He scrambles back, hand slapping at his neck to force the peeled patch back down over his scent gland. He backs up till his spine knocks against the bathroom stall.
“You are in heat at award show? Why would you hide this? Why would you not call out sick? Are you—are you insane? You care this much about trophy?”
OR Shane goes into heat in Vegas
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Bookmarked by lightCyan
30 Dec 2025
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Max turns back to Carlos, a new eagerness about him, with a sharp sort of glint in his eye. “Can I show you something? I think you’ll appreciate it.”
Raising an eyebrow, Carlos nods slowly. A strange sense of unease descends over the table as Max taps around on his phone, smirking when he finds whatever he’s looking for. He lays it on the table and slides it across for Carlos to see.
Carlos’ eyes drop down… and promptly feels his stomach crawl up his throat.
“He looks so good like that, yeah?”
On the phone screen is a picture of Charles.
He’s naked.
.
.
or: After his infamous road trip with Charles, Carlos is invited to dinner with Max. Turns out, Max is less interested in food, and more interested in making a point.Bookmarked by lightCyan
17 Dec 2025
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双性/奸尸/一尸两命
Bookmarked by lightCyan
11 Aug 2025