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i want you to need me (i need to want somethin' more) by FlowerCitti
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV)
14 Feb 2026
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Summary
“What did I,” his throat clicks, swallowing harshly around the tears that he has refused to allow and fall. “What did I do wrong?”
Mortification feels like fingers wrapped tightly around his throat, tucking himself closely against the wall and too afraid to even look Rozanov in the eye. There’s a long beat of silence where Shane can practically feel his heart climb into his mouth, his chest aching with a relentless thud.
“Hollander.” He can’t read Rozanov’s tone even on his better days, quiet and short of breath.
Shane wishes that he could dissolve into the floorboards, eyes squeezed shut and a spike of shuddering cold working its way through him.
Or, Shane drops hard and fast after their hook-up in Vegas. Ilya takes care of him.
Series
- Part 3 of Nettles (Hollanov Fics)
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Summary
Ilya pulled away ever so slightly, still feeling Shane’s breath warm on his lips. “Do you remember what you told me last night?”
Shane furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Don’t wake me up before the sun?”
“No, no. The other thing. What you promised me.”
Shane’s eyebrows remained furrowed. “No…?”
“You promised me you’d be my good boy today.”
Shane has issues giving up control. Ilya teaches him that it's ok to let somebody else take care of him.
Non-sexual kink fic, but sex is mentioned a few times, so I went ahead and marked it as explicit.
Beta read by my wonderful partner <3
Series
- Part 1 of Hollanov Non-Sexual Kink
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- Words:
- 4,663
- Works:
- 1
- Bookmarks:
- 2
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Summary
After a brutal week that's left Shane wound tight with anxiety, he shows up at Ilya's hotel room desperately needing to turn off his brain. Ilya recognises what Shane needs before Shane can even put it into words - to let someone else take control for a while.
Series
- Part 1 of The Space Between
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Summary
Shane was twelve years old when he found out he was a sub. He still remembers the moment, designation result crumbled in his tiny hands, his fists shaking. Not in terror but in rage.
“Darling,” his mother continues, and he can tell her heart is breaking, “We can’t help who we are”.