1161 – 1180 of 1,831 Works in Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander
- Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander ×
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( i am done ) trying for beauty. by hcneymooners (romqntics)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
Ilya glances at Shane, at the way the dying light is catching in his hair, refracting. At that spiderlily mouth, slightly open and curling coyly, two teeth peeked through the dark gap like an American Girl doll. At that shoulder, bare and pale and close enough to touch if Ilya just leaned forward, if he just reached out and took another liberty. To touch another person is to say: I know you will die, and I am doing this anyway. His mother used to say something like this. About painting. Every portrait is an act of faith, Ilyushenka. Faith and futility both. ⋆ contrary to personal preference, ilya gets a roommate.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 19,745
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77383786
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Pre-Game Suits (Loonlets) by strawhat_star
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
The rookies set about questioning the limits of fun suits with the MHL dress code. Ilya helps.
- Part 7 of Nature Offers a Violence
- Part 9 of Heated Rivalry - Collection
- Language:
- English
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- 1,603
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77372266
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Shane and Ilya don't stay apart for very long, but will they get their happy ending, or is it gone before it can even begin? or Ilya sacrifices himself to save Shane. *This could technically be read as a stand-alone but it makes more sense if you read the first two fics in the series first.*
- Part 3 of Mingling Scents
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- English
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- 5,848
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- 6/6
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- AO3:
- #77170491
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He thinks of Ilya’s commanding tone: “Hollander, here”, “take it for me”, or Shane’s personal favorite, “kneel.” Shane, through all these years, has been amazed that to Ilya these little commands are so casual, just a part of fucking for him. To Shane, these words are all consuming. They shut off the hyperactive part of his brain and he can just… enjoy. Ilya takes over, makes Shane feel good, uses Shane to feel good, and Shane goes gooey for it every time. He’s never known peace like getting railed by Ilya Rozanov. Shane knows you can't eat your cake and have it, too. He knows that asking too much of Ilya would be plain selfish. Knows that asking to be told exactly what to do so he can shut his brain off isn't normal. And Ilya... well he doesn't think Shane knows shit.
- Part 1 of Today I Fell, and Felt Better
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,461
- Chapters:
- 5/5
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- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76705541
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blame it all on the weather by hnjsngluvr69
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
This thing with Rozanov – it's gotten a little out of hand. It started years ago, when they were both new on the job and stupidly nervous. They'd ended up at the same hotel during a series of clippers somewhere in Ontario, and somehow a night of griping about the realities of field reporting ended with Shane spread out in Ilya's bed. or, Shane and Ilya are field reporters for rival weather channels who keep ending up in bed together.
- Part 3 of hollanov <3
- Part 1 of heated meteorology
- Language:
- English
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- 8,823
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77387031
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Had and Ruby have a VERY nice play for Shane. It gets Shane thinking about how harmful his diet might actually be.
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- English
- Words:
- 2,602
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77375856
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we are more than this cold place by GhostGrrl
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
Despite learning his lesson. Despite knowing not to go against every single wall he was forced to build up because of his remorseless family, every mask he tried on to hide from his merciless country, every single survival instinct he had left, and every single morsel of preservation, Ilya just couldn’t resist the sun. or Ilya's feelings after Shane leaves him during the tuna melt scene along with the memories and pain this also conjures up for him.
- Language:
- English
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- 1,281
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77362931
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Hockey is a rough sport. Everyone knows that. You go down, you get back up. That’s the game. When Ilya Rozanov goes down on the ice, the Boston Bears are already moving to defend their captain. No one expects Shane Hollander, captain of the Montreal Voyageurs, to be the one who throws the first punch. Ilya Rozanov loved playing against Shane Hollander almost as much as he loved fucking him. Not that anyone in the arena would ever know that—not with the way Ilya drove Shane shoulder-first into the boards now. His weight crashed in behind him a moment later, pinning him there as the plexiglass shuddered from the impact. The vibration climbed all the way up Ilya’s arms and rattled against his teeth. Shane’s breath left him in a sharp burst of white, fogging across the glass where his visor pressed flush against it. His mouth fell open on a broken sound that never quite escaped, swallowed whole by the crowd as they surged to their feet, hungry and gleeful as they turned toward the collision. Ilya felt it anyway. Felt the way Shane’s body tensed first, instinct flaring hot and defensive, then yielded when recognition set in. When his body understood exactly who had him pinned to the boards. Ilya felt Shane’s spine arch, ribs expanding under the pressure of his forearm, a helpless, involuntary offering that sent something low and dangerous coiling tight in Ilya’s gut. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to that single point of contact. Blades biting into the ice. Pads creaking beneath the fabric of their opposing jerseys—eighty-one and twenty-four. Shane was unyielding even when he was pinned, even when his weight subtly pressed back instead of away. Ilya stayed there a fraction too long. Long enough to memorize the exact moment Shane’s resistance softened without ever breaking. Long enough to feel the way Shane leaned into him, like a promise instead of a warning. Somewhere in the crowd, the cameras whined as they zoomed in, greedy to catch the moment for the viewers at home. In the booths, surrounded by those same unblinking lenses that caught every possible angle of the collision, Ilya knew the commentators had already leaned forward in their comfortable chairs. He knew they would already be dissecting yet another brutal meeting between the captains of the Montreal Voyageurs and the Boston Bears. “Oh—Rozanov’s been hunting that matchup all night,” one of the commentators said, delighted. “The captains of these two teams have a long history of rivalry on the ice. Hardly surprising to find them—” “It’s a clean hit,” the other commentator cut in. “Hollander’s not known for losing his head, but Rozanov has a way of getting under even the most level-headed guy’s skin. You can feel the tension every time these two share the ice—neither one of them ever backs down.” “Hell of a show they’re putting on for us tonight.” But on the ice, none of that mattered. The boards were bleeding cold through the layers of their padding, seeping into Shane’s shoulder, his ribs, his spine. Ilya could feel him shivering. The crowd was still on its feet, a wall of sound that blurred the edges of everything else, but the heat between them ignored it completely. Ilya’s body kept Shane pressed to the boards, unyielding even as helmets knocked together, cages scraping with a thin metallic rasp that felt far too intimate for how hard they were supposed to be hitting. It almost—almost—landed like a kiss when Shane twisted, trying to throw him off. Ilya felt every taut line of Shane’s body straining beneath him, muscles coiled and familiar in a way that loosened something dangerous in his chest even as they fought for possession over the puck. Ilya leaned in, just enough that Shane could feel his breath through the vents of his helmet. He smiled where only Shane could see it. “You skate slow today, captain,” he murmured, his accent thicker, softer. “Maybe tired from last night.” His grin turned sharp. “Should I take it easy on you?” Shane huffed a laugh that scraped out of him, rough and breathless. His shoulders shifted, instinctively angling closer even as the linesman started toward them. “Fuck off, Rozanov,” he muttered, dragging in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. The sound went straight through Ilya. And before he could stop himself, his gloved hand slid to Shane’s hip and squeezed—hard. Something reckless and private pressed into the narrow space between their pads and the noise and the regulation rules they both lived by. It shouldn’t have meant anything to anyone who noticed the touch lingered too long. It was for balance. It was instinct. A dozen excuses flared and died in Ilya’s head, because—fuck it—he wanted Shane closer. Wanted to lean in and kiss him stupid, right there against the glass. Wanted the world to finally understand what it was cheering for. Shane Hollander was his. Ilya knew his touch was too possessive. He knew he should probably pull back, create distance, or the illusion of it. But his fingers dug in harder instead, lingering too close to something that could never be explained away as incidental contact. Shane’s dark eyes snapped up, catching Ilya’s, sharp and furious and lit with something that made Ilya’s pulse stutter, like he’d misjudging a step and felt the drop a heartbeat too late. “Make me,” Ilya murmured, the words soft behind his grin. Then he slammed Shane back into the plexiglass again—just to feel it. The jolt. The way Shane’s body reacted before his pride could catch up. The involuntary sound punched out of him as their skates stuttered beneath them, blades biting and chattering against the ice as the puck bounced uselessly between their skates. Shane’s grunt slid low in his throat, a sound he only made when he was fighting for something he refused to lose. And all Ilya could think of—hot and unbidden—was last night. This exact angle. This exact body. This exact resistance that wasn’t resistance at all. Only it had been skin between them instead of gear. Hands instead of gloves. The heat of Shane’s breath breaking apart under him. The way Shane’s thighs had trembled as Ilya took his cock into his mouth. The way Shane had clung to him, arching into every thrust like he
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- English
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- 9,320
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- 1/1
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- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77390061
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“You're Lucky,” Shane murmured as he taped gauze over the gash in his knee. “Could've been worse, could've ended your season.” Ilya huffed, staring at the floor. “Yeah.” --- Ilya gets into a minor bike accident and shows up to Shanes house unannounced and ashamed. Shane patches him back up and sees him as a human, not a burden.
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- English
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- 2,100
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77359131
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Hot Asshole in Your Area: Click Now! by nbca
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
“Yeah, the assholes usually are. I mean, Rozanov is just so unfairly hot. He really does not deserve to be so attractive,” complained Scott. Oh, god. Ilya could never find out about this. He’d never shut up. “You think he’s hot?” Shane asked in despair, and then immediately regretted it. Scott raised his eyebrows in disbelief, as if to say, Are you fucking with me right now? ---- Shane is invited to hangout with Scott and the Kingfisher crew, and finds out that they all think his secret boyfriend is hot. Which he is. So why is Shane so bothered right now?
- Language:
- English
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- 2,028
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77348011
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until you're red in the face by vamptious
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
Ilya allows the conversation to pivot and brings the iPad up again, waving it like it’s the key to all their problems. “I was curious about this and I read about it many times. Do you know about kinks?” And there go all of Shane’s plans for the night. Or: Ilya and Shane take an agonisingly long time to negotiate their kinks. Then, finally, they act on some of them.
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- English
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- 9,807
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- 2/2
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77002746
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“I’m coming to the cottage,” Shane heard when he answered his phone. He was momentarily stunned, he hadn’t expected Ilya to bring it up again himself, let alone say yes so easily. “Shane, are you there? Or ehm, if you don’t want me to come anymore, that’s okay too,” he heard Ilya stammer. “No!” Shane exclaimed quickly. “I definitely want you to come!” “Oh, thank goodness, for a minute I thought I’d made a fool of myself, because you didn’t remember even asking me or something. You did seem pretty high when you did.” Shane laughed at that. “I was very high, but not just on the meds,” he said. “Well Mr. Hollander, are you flirting with me?” Ilya exclaimed and then he giggled. He actually giggled and the sound made Shane feel weak in the knees. “What if I am?” he breathed out. “You have lot of talk,” Ilya replied, and Shane could almost hear him smirking. “Maybe you should put your hands where your mouth is!” Shane barked out a laugh. “What?” Ilya asked, confused. “Is that not the saying?” “It’s ‘Put your money where your mouth is’,” Shane replied, laughing. Or where Ilya comes to the cottage, but is he ready for the secrets Shane has been keeping?
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- English
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77080816
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Then, with a smile in Shane’s voice, “That’s French, Ilya.” Ilya? Had Hayden heard that right? Shane definitely had to be making a joke. Or- or something. Right? And maybe Hayden would have believed that if Shane hadn’t known where Rozanov was a day before anyone else did. Russian… Lily… Ilya… ‘Oh my God’ was the only thought that crossed Hayden’s mind. His fingers gripped at the door, Shane’s head dipped close to the phone visible through the crack. It wasn’t possible. But, he just had a feeling. Something in Hayden’s brain was saying ‘no yeah, that’s Rozanov on the phone.’ Or Hayden Pike figures out Shane and Ilya's secret after overhearing a very consequential phone call. (This fic is mostly show compliant, with a couple details from the book thrown in. Some of it I changed completely for my own purposes.)
- Language:
- English
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- 7,086
- Chapters:
- 2/2
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- 1
- AO3:
- #77347296
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i feel the rush, addicted to your touch by Literal_Multifandom_Trashcan
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
Pretty much the second Shane closed the car door, Ilya pounced on him, pulling him into a deep kiss like a man possessed. Shane made a little noise of surprise in the back of his throat before leaning into the kiss, allowing Ilya to explore his mouth with his tongue. “Not that I’m complaining,” Shane said, panting a little as he pulled away for air. “but what prompted this?” Ilya just hummed in the back of his throat, starting the car up. Music from his chill playlist permeated the car at a low volume. He started the drive back to their home, one thing on his mind. “Have I ever told you that you sound very hot when you speak French?” Ilya asked casually. He was going a little over the speed limit. Shane, for once, didn’t scold Ilya, instead too busy sputtering at Ilya’s words. “Seriously? That’s what has you hot and bothered?” Shane asked disbelievingly. or: ilya thinks its really, *really* hot when shane speaks french
- Language:
- English
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- 3,389
- Chapters:
- 1/1
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- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77358516
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i love you, ya tebya lyublyu, je t'aime by moonlightdances
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-09
“Because I can’t fucking do this, Ilya. I’m going to my parents’, I- I need a break, alright? Shit.” Shane’s gaze locked onto his keys and he picked them up, stalking towards the door. He needed a break from the arguing and he needed to go somewhere he could breathe and collect his thoughts, so he could process this correctly and talk about it with Ilya civilly. Everything was still suffocating and overwhelming and Shane needed out, needed to go sit in his car and drive in silence to his parents’ place. - Ilya had seen enough breakups to know what one looked like. Shane ignored him, and looked irritated, and said he couldn’t do this (this, like everything between them could be reduced to a single word other than love), and said he needed a break (his confidence in Ilya’s English was comforting up until Ilya realised it meant Shane didn’t feel the need to say the dramatic I’m breaking up with you that characterised the ends of relationships). or, hollanov fight and misunderstandings resulting in an injury ensue
- Language:
- English
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- 10,163
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- 1/1
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- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77355746
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Hayden never imagined his peace would be shattered like this. He bumped his head, unexpectedly gaining the ability to read mind, while simultaneously caught between two lovebirds, Shane and Ilya. (English is not my first language, and there may be issues with the timeline.) Hayden Pike knows he isn't the most dazzling player on the ice, but he is reliable and steady. He is the kind of guy who would show up on time, do his job, and go home to his wife, Jackie, and their twins, Emma and Ruby, and if he is lucky, maybe even catch the last few games on TV before collapsing onto the couch and falling asleep. Therefore, he is absolutely certain of a few things in life: Jackie's Sunday pancakes were the best in Montreal; the kids would make him spend all the money he could possibly have on hockey gear; Shane is the best captain he could have; Shane is a straight man; and Hayden himself is one of the best role players in the NHL. Then, in a meaningless game in November, he was bumped by Cliff Marleau of the Boston Raiders, and everything changed. It isn't even a flagrant foul. Hayden is skating backward, caught up in the rhythm of the game, and didn't even see Marleau coming at him. His head slammed into the ice with a sharp thud that echoed through the Bell Centre. In that instant, he felt dizzy, colors blurred, and the clamor of the crowd turned into a cacophony of noise. When he opened his eyes, Shane was leaning over him, his lips moving. But Hayden couldn't hear Shane's voice; he heard something else. [Please, please, it has to be alright, damn it, it looks terrible. Is he ok? Say something, Pike, say it—] Hayden blinked. Shane's lips didn't move with the words. "Can you hear me?" Shane's voice finally broke through. "Pike? How many fingers?" "Two," Hayden said hoarsely. "I'm alright. Just… give me a second." But he isn't really alright. As the medical team helped him to his feet and escorted him through the players' tunnel, Hayden felt a buzzing in his head, like a radio switching between two channels. Words and phrases swirled in his mind, but he couldn't fully comprehend them. [He looks really badly injured. I can't afford to get hurt again.] [f I'm late for another game, my wife will kill me.] [That new Thai restaurant on St. Lawrence Street…] Maybe I can talk to the coach and try to get more playing time— Various sounds mingled together, like a chaotic symphony, utterly disordered. As the team doctor helped Hayden into the examination room, he pressed his palm to his temple. “Headache?” Dr. Rousseau asked, shining a flashlight into Hayden's eyes. “Yes,” Hayden said, but it isn't just a headache. The sounds were becoming clearer; he could now distinguish the different sounds. [Hope it's nothing serious. I have a wedding to attend next weekend. ]That's Dr. Rousseau. It must be him; he's alone in the room. “I…” Hayden swallowed. “Am I going crazy, Doctor?” Dr. Rousseau gave a reassuring smile. “It's probably just a mild concussion. You'll be fine. Rest for a few days, don't look at screens, and come back for your follow-up appointment next week. Don't participate in any training until I give you permission to recover.” That night, lying in bed next to Jackie, Hayden truly realized the seriousness of his new problem. [I wonder if I locked the car.] He turned his head. Jackie is looking down at her phone, a calm expression on her face. [Emma needs a new pair of figure skates. Maybe we can go to the sporting goods store this weekend. Goodness, they grow up so fast.] “Hey,” Hayden said softly. “Jay?” She looked up. “Hmm?” “What are you thinking about right now?” She raised an eyebrow. “Pike, this is a dangerous question. What’s wrong?” “Just curious.” [—Is this about that celebrity on Twitter? I knew I should have made my account private.] Hayden suppressed a laugh. “Never mind. I love you.” “I love you too, weirdo.” By morning, Hayden had to accept the fact: he could hear other people's thoughts. Not always, and not with everyone, but when he focused intently on someone, their inner monologue would reach his ears clearly. This should have terrified him. However, after the initial panic, Hayden found…it is useful? He discovered that Jackie's favorite coffee isn't her usual vanilla latte but a honey lavender cold brew she'd tried once at a specialty coffee shop, which she'd thought was too expensive. [Eight dollars for a cup of coffee? Insane! But wow, it is so good!] So he learned to make it himself. That Sunday morning, when he served Jackie his homemade coffee, her expression made all the tutorials he'd watched on YouTube
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- AO3:
- #77363666
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Shane gets invited on the night time version of Good Morning America. Ilya makes some impulsive decisions. It all works out in the end. *obviously, if you recognize it, I don't own it. Someone on Tiktok posted the outline and then my brain wandered off*
- Language:
- English
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- 1,902
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77358541
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5 times Shane and Ilya broke the rules they had set in place to get away with it + 1 time they realized they had nothing to get away from.
- Language:
- English
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- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77373116
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He’s a perfectionist and he will perfect the art of being Shane’s Dom.
- Part 2 of Heated Rivalry One-shots
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,871
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77366271
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ilyushka81 liked your review by Anonymous
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-09
Lists
movies that remind me of my husband
Я люблю тебя♥︎ 1 like
Moonlight (2016)
Past Lives (2023)
Snoopy, Come Home (1972)
10 Things I Hate About You (1999)
Lady and the Tramp (1955)
Before Sunrise (1995)
Ponyo (2008)—
[Or: some of Ilya’s silly little movie reviews.]
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,853
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77376076