501 – 520 of 546 Works in Anxious Shane Hollander
- Anxious Shane Hollander ×
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Shane Hollander’s fluent in hockey. When his five-year-old daughter begins falling in love with figure skating, he has to learn whether that fluency will be enough.
- Part 3 of hollandad & papanov
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,135
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75960036
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The elevator is quiet. Too quiet. It presses against his skin, making him incredibly aware of the sweat cooling there. He also realizes that he hasn't hit the button to take him away from this floor. Shane glances at his phone once more, where the message glares back at him. He shakes his head and pockets the device, unaware of his thumb hitting the button to send it, reaching out with his other hand to stab at the button for his own floor.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,695
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75985881
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Jane: It’s your birthday. Ilya stares at the text, taking another drag of his cigarette. Ilya: Traditionally, I think you are meant to say happy birthday. Jane: Happy birthday. Ilya smirks. -- Three of Ilya’s birthdays, and how they’re spent.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,640
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75911056
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shane has broken his arm and can't play against boston, but the most annoying thing is he hasn't been able to wash his hair in days... cue ilya, our favorite acts of service baddie ------ Shane blinked. His mind was screaming at him. What was happening? This wasn’t what they did, they didn’t wash each other’s hair or care about each other’s injuries. They fucked, and then they went home. He should say no, should tell Rozanov to buzz off and leave him to suffer, but the words wouldn’t come out. Eventually, he just nodded.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,281
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75956551
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Side By Side (Shield Me From My Fears) by ItsSoLine
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-17
Seeing Shane Hollander laid out on the ice was one of the worst moments of Ilya Rozanov's life. But it made him realize that he could not hide the truth anymore, no matter the aftermath.
- Part 2 of Boston Boyfriends
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,780
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75912331
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“I always want to be fucking you,” Ilya continued as he pressed a finger deep into Shane. “It has taken over my brain. My life. When I am not with you, I am thinking of you.” He added another finger easily, pushing deep. “If I could have my way, you would never wear clothes again. You would simply recline on a throne of furs and softness, where I would fuck you at your leisure.” Or: Pregnant omega Shane is feeling insecure about his expanding body. Ilya will make him feel better.
- Part 2 of "Yes, sweetheart."
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,738
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75931201
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shane hollander is pretty sure he’s pregnant.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 14,453
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75895576
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i think he fell in love (he said he trust me with his life) by meltinggoose
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-17
Fuck, he would dose that scent if he could- lick it off of Shane’s lips and neck like good Russian vodka ---- Scott's words on the ice trigger Shane's first heat.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,254
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75536746
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Dancing in a Crowded Room by ChuisPlusQueRien
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-16
Shane is tired of resisting. Ilya is happy to help.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,870
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75885841
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Five times someone asked who Lily was, and one time Shane told the truth.
Or, “A Lesson in the Art of Subtlety,” presented by Shane Hollander, and witnessed by the Montreal Voyageurs.
(Inspired by the scene where Shane gets the dickpick and slams his phone down on the bed, and in ep4 when he aggressively tells Hayden he is going to visit a “friend”)
- Part 3 of The Montreal Girl (Lily & Jane)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,405
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75838736
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The test very confidently displayed a positive result. Well—this test and the three others he’d taken just to be sure. He’d used the basic drug store one that showed only a plus sign, as well as the fancier ones with words and estimates of how far along you were. All of them were screaming at him, in unison, the words he hadn’t wanted to hear. They echoed the thought that he’d been desperately trying to ignore despite the symptoms he’d been having for the past two weeks. Shane Hollander was pregnant.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,851
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75798896
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the skyline falls as i try to make sense of it all by Literal_Multifandom_Trashcan
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-14
This felt bad. He hadn’t really been tracking as much, hell, just last night him and Ilya had gotten takeout from a fried chicken place nearby. Swallowing, his hands started to tremble. He could nearly taste the butter, the bread crumb coating the chicken, the oil it was fried in. And once he started thinking about it, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. How many calories had that been? A lot, right? Especially since it was restaurant made, he had no idea how much of each ingredient they had used. Bile rose up in his throat. Shutting his eyes, he deeply inhaled, then exhaled. This was fine. He could fix this. or: i project onto shane hollander because he is just like me fr fr
- Part 1 of come on skinny love
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,685
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75664091
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Walk Away by multifaulty (Ravenclaws_owl)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-14
Shane dialed. It rang… and rang… and rang again. With each passing ring the pit gnawing its way through Shane's stomach was growing. Just as he felt like it was about to stop ringing and go to voicemail, it picked up. Shane breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God, I was getting worried. Where are you?” There was an unsettling beat of silence before someone answered, “Hollander?” It was not Ilya’s voice. Shane’s stomach dropped. He did his best to keep his voice steady as he answered. “Yeah? Uh, who is this? Can you give Ilya back his phone please?” Another beat of silence. “Hollander… God, um, something’s happened-” After the events of The Long Game, Shane and Ilya play their first All-Star Weekend. Things are going great, until they go truly and horribly sideways. Ilya is left hospitalized following an attack off the ice, and Shane is left to pick up the pieces and wonder why.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 12,529
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75615521
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It was two rings and then his thick accent and smooth voice washed over Shane like a slow molasses. “Hollander,” Rozanov sighed. “It is late. I thought you had date, no?” “I fucked up,” Shane whispered biting back a sob. Shane drops after he sleeps with someone that's not Ilya, so naturally he calls Ilya to take care of him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,532
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75670246
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like you're made (just for me) by brokencomatose
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-12
if you would’ve asked shane over a decade ago, he would’ve told you that he doesn’t believe in soulmates. the idea that there’s someone out there just for him was always something that he wouldn’t have outright scoffed at, but he would’ve shaken his head in amusement and went on. and then came ilya rozanov.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,611
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75657016
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After a high-pressure game, Shane Hollander is a live wire of anxious perfectionism, desperately insisting he's "fine." Ilya Rozanov knows better. He can smell the oncoming omega crash. When Shane's brittle control finally shatters, Ilya must use every ounce of his firm, grounding alpha presence to guide his omega through the collapse—from frantic resistance, to overwhelming relief, and finally, into the safe, quiet space of total submission and praise. (Or: The one where Shane falls apart, and Ilya is there to catch him.) Collapse Into Me __________________ The hotel room door clicked shut behind them, sealing out the roar of the arena, the flash of cameras, the echoing chants of both their names. Shane’s name had been chanted louder tonight. He’d been perfect. Flawless. A machine on the ice. And now, inside the quiet, opulent suite, he was methodically coming apart at the seams. Ilya watched him from the doorway, his own gear bag dropping to the floor with a soft thud. Shane had already marched across the living room, his movements sharp and economical. He placed his own bag by the closet with military precision, toeing it into a perfect parallel line with the wall. He shrugged out of his tailored dress jacket, folded it once, and laid it over the back of an armchair. His tie came next, the silk whispering as he pulled it loose, but instead of discarding it, he looped it neatly around his knuckles, over and over, a tight, anxious coil . To anyone else, he looked composed. Collected. The consummate professional finishing his post-game routine. But Ilya smelled it. Under the sweat and the sharp, chemical scent of the arena ice, Shane’s omega scent was thin. Wispy. Like burnt sugar and over-steeped tea, pulled too tight until it was about to snap. It was a scent Ilya knew intimately—the prelude to a crash. It was in the air between them, a frantic, fading sweetness that made the back of Ilya’s teeth ache with instinct. “Shane,” Ilya said, his voice deliberately calm. Neutral. He took a single, casual step into the room, not wanting to crowd him yet. “I’m fine,” Shane replied instantly, the words clipped. He didn’t turn around. He began to move, not toward the bedroom or the shower, but in a tight, precise line from the sofa to the window and back. Pacing. His dress shoes made a soft, relentless shush-shush on the carpet. “Just need to wind down. The second period, that turnover by the blue line—it was a misread. I saw Tremblay cutting in, but I thought he’d go wide, and if I’d just pivoted half a second sooner, taken the inside lane instead of committing to the boards—” “It led to a goal,” Ilya finished for him, staying where he was, leaning against the wall by the door. He kept his body loose, non-threatening. He unbuttoned his own cuffs, rolling his sleeves up slowly, an attempt to project normalcy. “You won, Shane. 4-1. You had two assists. You were the best player on the ice.” “It was a preventable goal,” Shane shot back, his voice tightening, rising a half-octave. The pacing quickened. Six steps to the window, a sharp pivot, six steps back. His hands flexed at his sides, the coiled tie cutting into his palm. “A stupid, careless— I knew their forecheck pattern. I knew it. I told Hayden to watch for it, I diagrammed it in the locker room. And then I fell for it. Like a rookie. They’ll see that on film. They’ll all see it.” His scent spiked, souring with the acid tang of anxiety. Ilya saw the fine tremor in Shane’s trapped hands before he shoved them into the pockets of his suit pants. He was still in the uniform of the public captain, the tie a little too tight, the crisp white shirt straining across shoulders held in rigid, defensive formation. Every line of him was vibrating with a energy that had nowhere to go but inward, turning toxic. Ilya pushed off the wall. “Come. Shower. The steam will help. We will order food.” He kept his tone practical, a lifeline of simple, physical next steps. “In a minute,” Shane dismissed, veering away from Ilya’s approach as if burned. He ended up at the minibar, staring at its glossy door as if it contained the answers. “I just need to think it through. Map it out. So it doesn’t happen again. If I can see the sequence, where the decision tree branched wrong, I can lock it down.” “You can think in the shower.” Ilya took another step, his voice layering with a gentle alpha rumble, a coaxing note meant to soothe, to pull him gently back from the edge. It had the opposite effect. Shane flinched, actually flinched, and took two rapid steps back, putting the bulk of an armchair between them. His eyes, when they finally flicked to Ilya’s, were wide and glassy with suppressed panic. The beautiful hazel was almost all pupil. “Don’t. Just— don’t, Ilya.” His voice cracked on the name. “I’m fine. I need space. I need to process. I can’t— I can’t think when you’re…” He gestured vaguely at Ilya’s entire presence. The ‘fine’ was a brittle lie, shattering even as he said it. Ilya could see the cracks spreading, a web of fine fractures across the perfect ice of Shane’s composure. Shane’s breathing was all wrong—shallow sips of air that didn’t reach his lungs, the rise and fall of his chest too quick and high. His knuckles were white where he gripped the back of the chair. The beautiful, controlled omega who commanded the ice with a whisper was being devoured from the inside by a frantic, scrambling thing, an animal caught in a trap of its own spinning thoughts. Ilya’s own instincts, usually kept on a firm, civilized leash, began to stir and then rise. A low- grade alarm pulsed through him, syncing with his heartbeat. His omega is in distress. He is not safe. He is not grounded. He is hurting himself. The analytical part of his brain, the strategist, concurred coldly: Shane was spiraling, his thoughts looping into a self-flagellating frenzy with no exit. He was seconds from hyperventilating, minutes from a full, shuddering omega crash that would leave him feeling raw, sick, and vulnerable for days. The time for gentle coaxing was over. The time for patient waiting had passed. Shane was too far gone to reach for the lifeline himself. Ilya would have to go in and get him. Ilya shifted. It was subtle, but in the charged, silent room, it was as loud as a thunderclap. He straightened to his full height, rolling his shoulders back, his spine aligning into a posture of pure, unassailable authority. He let his own scent bloom—not an aggressive challenge, but a deep, anchoring, deliberate wave of cedar, old leather, and steady, warm earth. An alpha’s scent of stability. Of claim. Of here, and now, and me. He poured it into the space, a tangible force meant to counter the thin, panicked sweetness choking the air.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,409
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75628616
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Shane turned Ilya Rozanov down in a dingy locker room once. Today he chooses him for the room.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,360
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75667776
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Lily and Jane Fall in Love by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-12
The five encounters with Shane that forced Ilya to lie (brag) to his teammates about his mysterious Montreal Girl, and the time they learned that the lies had never really mattered in the first place.
Or, Shane and Ilya are Not That Subtle about the identities of Jane and Lily, but it doesn't matter because their friends are idiots anyway.
(Behind the scenes of the first fic in this series, “The Montreal Girl”)
- Part 2 of The Montreal Girl (Lily & Jane)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,681
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75665376
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Our Captain, Their Problem by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-11
Ilya Rozanov has a "tiny car accident" (his words). Shane Hollander has a full-scale, system-shutdown panic attack about it. Meanwhile, a horrified Hayden is praying for someone to throw him in a lake and tell him that this is all just a big joke, or maybe for a meteor strike; he is really not picky. J.J., on the other hand, is trying to bleach the image of his sweet captain making out with Ilya fucking Rozanov from his brain.
It's a very normal day for the Montreal Voyageurs.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,868
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75575896
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taste of control by beetlesandstars, kryptonian
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-11
“So,” Ilya starts, drumming his fingers on his knees. “You want tuna melt when we get home?” “What?” Shane says, distracted. “We just had dinner.” “Yes,” Ilya says. “But you had children’s portion.” Shane sends him an incredulous look. “I had two servings.” “Of baby food.” “Ilya.” “Shane.” Shane sighs. “Can we not do this? Please.” Unfortunately for Shane, they must do this. Or: Shane's restrictive eating versus Hayden Pike and Ilya Rozanov.
- Part 1 of cjo + hr
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 11,262
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #75597311