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Ponchik by yesithinksoprobably
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types, Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
25 Jun 2026
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Summary
Inspired by a conversation that happened on tumblr that I couldn't get out of my head
Shane gets brattier as he gets fatter. Ilya loves to play.
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“Oh my poor fat husband can’t get himself up off the couch, walk three steps and then bend over to plug in his own laptop?” Ilya teases, pretending to be shocked, but the skin around his eyes is crinkled and there is a mirthful glint in his look.
“I can too do it!” Shane protests indignantly, “...I just don’t want to,” he finishes, impishly wagging his eyebrows and holding Ilya’s gaze.
He folds his arms stubbornly over the top of his belly. The gesture only emphasizes his squishy biceps, and the lack of space between his beefy upper arms and the thick rolls of fat wrapping around his chest.
“Shane,” Ilya says in his most commanding voice, “Stand up.”
“No!”
“Shayna. Stand. Up.” Ilya hits every syllable, upping the tone of warning in his voice.
“I don’t want to” Shane protests petulantly. Nakedly defiant now. The game is truly on.
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Last Read: 06/2026 (Oneshot)Tracking
Fandom: Heated Rivalry (TV) Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
Author: yesithinksoprobably
Title: Ponchik
Series:
⟡˖*°࿐ ✦ Summary:Inspired by a conversation that happened on tumblr that I couldn't get out of my head
Shane gets brattier as he gets fatter. Ilya loves to play.
--------------------------
“Oh my poor fat husband can’t get himself up off the couch, walk three steps and then bend over to plug in his own laptop?” Ilya teases, pretending to be shocked, but the skin around his eyes is crinkled and there is a mirthful glint in his look.
“I can too do it!” Shane protests indignantly, “...I just don’t want to,” he finishes, impishly wagging his eyebrows and holding Ilya’s gaze.
He folds his arms stubbornly over the top of his belly. The gesture only emphasizes his squishy biceps, and the lack of space between his beefy upper arms and the thick rolls of fat wrapping around his chest.
“Shane,” Ilya says in his most commanding voice, “Stand up.”
“No!”
“Shayna. Stand. Up.” Ilya hits every syllable, upping the tone of warning in his voice.
“I don’t want to” Shane protests petulantly. Nakedly defiant now. The game is truly on.
-
Bookmark Collections:
-
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