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The MILF Theory (And Why the Internet Got It Wrong) by pucksandpower
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
29 Dec 2025
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Summary
The internet has decided that Ilya Rozanov is absolutely, definitely, 100% banging a Hollander.
They’ve got photo evidence. Multiple sightings. Instagram stories from the same café. The man stayed OVERNIGHT at the Hollander residence.
It’s the most legendary power move in NHL history: seduce your rival’s hot mom to assert dominance. There’s just one tiny problem with this theory. Ilya’s fucking a Hollander, all right. Just … not that one.
Or in which Ilya’s boyfriend's mother keeps adopting him, the internet keeps assuming the worst, and Shane Hollander is having the worst month of his entire life. At least until he does something that breaks hockey forever.
- Language:
- English
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- 13,813
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by audire
03 Feb 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Can't remember the last time I laughed this many times reading a fic; hilarious and sweet
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Summary
Samira Mohan doesn’t have a thing for Jack Abbot, she just has a thing for older men, hopefully.
or
The "Samira dates old guys" fic
Bookmarked by audire
20 Jan 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
He was thoughtful, understanding, patient, arguably handsome if you were into that sort of thing. Regrettably, she acknowledged that the sort of thing was a conventionally attractive white man with forearms like an oil rigger.
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Summary
Jack Abbot was a prolific MMA fighter fifteen years ago. He decides to return to his old gym to see if he still has it in him to win, only to find that his coach has passed away and his coach's daughter- Samira Mohan- is now the one in charge. Sparks fly, and not in the way Jack is accustomed to in a gym.
Can she coach him to a victory?
And can he get her to believe in herself?Can two souls who gave up on life find the fight to live again?
Bookmarked by audire
19 Jan 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
She snorts, her whole body vibrating with her laughter against him and oh. He really had forgotten pleasure could exist without pain.
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He offers himself so easily to her it makes her want to believe him, even if she’s not ready to believe in herself.
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Samira did not believe in soulmates. She felt the construct was inherently flawed, as it asked you to believe that you had no choice in who you loved. And as someone whose life had been predicated upon a lack of choices, it was one more choice she refused to be denied. Or so she thought.Somehow, despite her misgivings about the universe, Jack Abbot had arrived and his soul had been inexplicably tied to hers. It was a truth she knew from the moment he said he wanted to prove himself to her- for better or worse, he was her soulmate. There was no choice in the matter. It was just another decision she had no say in, but would have to bear the consequences of.
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Summary
Samira may be speedrunning the whole trying-to-get-a-life thing that Cassie had suggested to her.
But she’s been feeling desperate, grasping, wanting to sink her hands into everything, try everything.
She’s been saying yes, and yes, and yes to everything that comes her way.
Samira’s always been a bit of an overachiever, after all.
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Beach fic.
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Summary
“So,” he says, close enough that she can smell him, a soft pine sap mixed with antiseptic, a line of heat settling in next to her. She inhales, letting it fill her lungs, reassured, as always, to have him next to her. “You're good at texting, right?”
She blinks at him, and he grins, slow and easy. Her attention gets snagged on the curve of his mouth, the sight of it taking shape under the bright lights. He has a nice smile, enough of a hint of teeth to keep her on her toes, but genuine enough that she wants to laugh with him, too.
She also wants to see how his mouth feels, pressed against hers, slick and wet, but that's neither here nor there.
OR: Samira has no idea what's happening, but it's not like she's going to ask Jack to stop.
Series
- Part 7 of the pitt masterlist
Bookmarked by audire
31 Dec 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
“I like it when you touch me,” she confesses, looking away as the words spill from her before she can think them through. “You—you should do it more.”
When she glances back, Jack is staring at her, deep greed painted across his face. He looks like a king, surveying his kingdom, a fierce sort of possession in the shine of his eyes, satisfaction in the curl of his mouth.
“Oh, Samira,” he murmurs, pulling her hand up to press a kiss against the back of it. She’s suddenly certain she has given him something he has been waiting for, some final unlocking of the push-pull between them. “Your wish is my command.”