1201 – 1220 of 1,831 Works in Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander

  • Ilya Rozanov Loves Shane Hollander ×
  1. Cigarettes After Sex by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • ?
    • ✓

    2026-01-08

    Shane begins sending letters to Ilya Rozanov, his next-door neighbor, in an attempt to stop the constant cigarette smoke from drifting into his apartment. The idea was to solve the problem, not start a war.

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    English
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    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #77332676
  2. Held through the heat by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • E
    • ?
    • ✓

    2026-01-08

    Shane knows something is wrong before the game even ends—his Heat rising fast and uncontrollable. Ilya gets him home just in time, knots him deep, and refuses to let him face it alone. The roar of the crowd faded as Shane Hollander skated off the ice. The ache in his muscles was nothing compared to the heat building beneath his skin. He had been off tonight— missing shots he could normally make with his eyes closed. His movements felt sluggish, unfocused, his body refusing to respond like it usually did. He could feel Ilya’s gaze on him before he even looked up, that intense blue stare sharp and searching. “You alright, Shane?” Ilya asked, skating up beside him. Shane forced a smile, stiff and brittle. “Yeah. Just… off tonight. Bad luck, I guess.” It was a lie, and they both knew it. The Centaurs still won, but the victory felt hollow. As soon as the buzzer sounded, Shane peeled away and headed for the locker room, desperate to escape Ilya’s attention. The noise, the lights, the closeness of too many bodies—it pressed in on him. He showered quickly. Hot water did nothing to ease the burn coiling tighter inside him. By the time he dressed, his hands were shaking. He kept his head down, avoided eye contact, focused on breathing through the growing discomfort. He was already in the passenger seat when Ilya finally appeared, damp hair pushed back, concern on his face. Ilya slid in beside him, the door shutting with a heavy thud. The familiar scent of his cologne filled the car, grounding and overwhelming. “Shane, what the fuck is going on?” Ilya’s voice was low, edged with steel. Shane swallowed hard. The truth spilled out before he could stop it. “I think… I think my Heat is starting soon.” The words hung between them. “Shit,” Ilya breathed. He turned the key, the engine roaring to life. “We need to get you home.” When the first cramp hit, it wasn’t just pain—it was his body pulling inward, desperate, needy, demanding. His cock twitched uselessly in his pants, half-hard and oversensitive, while slick soaked his underwear. “Ilya—” A hand landed on his thigh, warm and steady. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m driving as fast as I can.” The heat surged, relentless. Shane shifted, slick gathering where he couldn’t ignore it. Every bump in the road sent spikes of sensation through him. He whimpered, squirming, trying to find a comfortable position. There was none. The pressure built like a tide threatening to drown him. He broke. His hand slid down, rubbing himself through his pants, desperate for any relief. Friction was a small mercy, a brief distraction from the fire inside him. He arched his back, breath ragged. “Ilya… I need you, please.” Ilya didn’t hesitate. The car sped up, the world outside blurring as Shane’s breathing grew shallow. He could feel the heat radiating off him, thick and real. At home, Ilya killed the engine and helped him out of the car. Shane barely made it inside before collapsing against him, burying his face in Ilya’s neck. “Ilya,” he whimpered. “It hurts so bad.” “It’s alright, sweetheart,” Ilya murmured. “I’ll give you what you need.” He scooped Shane up in his arms, carrying him bridal style. Shane clung to him, trembling. Upstairs, he laid him on the bed. Clothes were stripped away quickly, every touch paired with soft kisses and whispered praise. “So beautiful,” Ilya murmured, over and over. He ran a hand through Shane’s hair, fingers tangling in the damp strands, kissing his forehead, cheeks, neck—each touch setting off new heat. Shane moaned, hips bucking. He was already leaking onto the sheets, need pouring out uncontrollably. He reached for Ilya, fingers clawing at his back. Ilya’s fingers brushed lower. He traced Shane’s hip, sending shivers down him. He dipped a finger into Shane’s slick, and Shane gasped. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Sweetheart, you’re leaking so much. This is all for me, isn’t it?” Shane nodded, unable to speak. He reached for Ilya, pulling him closer. He needed him, craved him. Ilya leaned down, kissing him deeply. He pulled back, eyes blazing with desire that matched Shane’s. “Taste yourself, Hollander.” Shane obeyed, coating his fingers with his own slick, bringing them to his mouth, sucking greedily. The taste was intoxicating, a mix of arousal and desperation. He closed his eyes, savoring it. “So fucking good for me,” Ilya rasped. He moved to the bedroom drawer, returning with nipple clamps and a dildo. Shane’s eyes widened, a mix of fear and excitement. He knew

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    AO3:
    #77327126
  3. Hayden cuts himself off at the sound of something he hears so rarely, he’s almost sure he’s imagining it. He scans the room, looking for the source, and sure enough, his eyes land on his target. There, nestled in between two of his teammates on the couch, is Shane Hollander. Laughing. Out loud. Audibly. Like, he’s actually fucking laughing, not the fake laughs he forces out to make other people more comfortable. In fact, he’s laughing so hard, he looks like he might cry, and Hayden would be delighted by the sight of it if he weren’t so fucking concerned. Shane Hollander doesn’t laugh at parties. Shane Hollander barely laughs when he’s actually happy, and he’s never happy at parties. So what gives? Or: Shane Hollander accidentally gets very high. That's it, that's the fic.

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    AO3:
    #77338056
  4. "I want you to be here.” Shane admits, and Ilya can picture how red Hollander’s face is right now. He blushes so easily. Ilya breathes in deeply and then whispers, “I want to be there with you, too.” or, it's summer 2016 and Shane calls Ilya after his father ends up in the hospital.

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    AO3:
    #77299381
  5. God, he was having a freak out and it was gonna be a bad one. “I can’t do this I can’t do this. I can’t I can’t. why?! I can’t! I can’t.” Shane was sobbing. He could breathe he couldn’t hear. His whole body was burning. Not like on fire, but it was tingling. Like an energy was trying to escape him from all directions. Like anxiety was trying to seep out of every pore in his skin. Or Shane has a really bad meltdown during a game.

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    AO3:
    #77324576
  6. Shane is grinding down on live TV. Ilya is close to having a heart attack, a whiplash, and/or a brain aneurysm. Or Ilya watches Shane's appearance on The Tonight Show where Shane (unprompted?) almost had sex with the floor. Ilya kinda wants to die.

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    AO3:
    #77321341
  7. Shane has spent his entire career rising above it. After one dirty hit, one slur, and one question too many, he stops. A press conference becomes a confession—and a line is finally drawn.

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    AO3:
    #76307726
  8. Ilya goes to Shane's Montreal home a day before they have planned. He ends up being the one surprised. Note: I just needed to get this earworm out of my brain, so its not my most polished work. If there is anything that is not tagged that you think needs to be, let me know! Enjoy!

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    AO3:
    #77295096
  9. During one of their meetups, Ilya discovers that Shane is sensitive in more ways than one.

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    AO3:
    #77296436
  10. Shane Hollander was a weird kid Shane Hollander being weird was the price to pay due to his talent. Or at least that's what he always thought -- Or also called: The Late term Autistic Diagnosis of Shane Hollander

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    AO3:
    #77295761
  11. It's the festive season, and university student Ilya needs a job. Lush is hiring. Also Known As: Ilya: Worlds Worst Lush Employee

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    AO3:
    #77298431
  12. An extended scene from The Cottage™ set in between when Ilya and Shane sit by the lake and THAT scene.

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    AO3:
    #77301756
  13. Shane has been keeping a secret. One that, until recently, he forgot he was even keeping. It’s been locked away in a safe, hidden behind a false wall panel at the cottage, unopened since 2021, if the last thing to be put in it is anything to go by. Or: The gift of memories.

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    AO3:
    #77302886
  14. Both Shane and Ilya had gotten concussions before. It was part of being a hockey player, but neither of them had ever woken up thinking they were seventeen. Of course, Shane had to change that.

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    AO3:
    #76764096
  15. Shane goes into a planned heat at the cottage.

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    2 versions
    AO3:
    #77331916
  16. Shane's breath catches on a sob, and he muffles the sound with his hand. Everything feels like too much. He’s naked, and he can feel entirely too much on his body, inside his body, and he hates how it's starting to feel gross. His head is pounding, and he can't even focus on placating his mind when his lungs are also screaming in his throat for breath. Ilya hears, and his hands reach out to hold Shane, tension lying in every part of his body. “Shane—” “Don't touch me,” Shane snaps, more desperation than yelling as he rips his arm out of Ilyas's grasp. His tears have nowhere to go now, and they finally spill over, hot and humiliating, down his cheeks. Ilya freezes in place, hand hovering mid-air. A myriad of emotions flicker across his face: confusion, hurt, fear. Ilya takes an unconscious step back like someone shoved him. His body curls in on itself, trying to make himself appear smaller. He looks... terrified. Like, Shane just called him a monster, and he believes it. OR: inspired by the fight in the long game when ilya had told shane he could have sex with other men because he did not believe in cheating.

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    3 versions
    AO3:
    #77307681
  17. Six months after the Olympic Games, Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov haven’t spoken a word to each other...and Shane Hollander is doing a terrible job of pretending he’s fine. With the NHL Awards looming and everything left unsaid hanging between them, one drunken night in Montreal spirals into an unexpected karaoke performance, and everything he’s buried comes spilling out in front of the one person he never stopped thinking about. For Ilya Rozanov, hearing Shane sing might be the moment that finally breaks the stalemate before the NHL Awards bring them back into each other’s orbit. Sometimes it only takes a song, a crowd, and one look across a room to realize that silence was never the same thing as moving on. OR: Between the Olympics and the NHL awards, Shane does drunk karaoke and pours his heart out, and Ilya sees the whole damn thing.

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    2 versions
    AO3:
    #77311136
  18. Competition was in Shane and Ilya's blood. Even when it comes to painting clay hockey helmets for charity. I do not support AI, I do not use AI in my work(s), and I do not consent to my work(s) being used for AI in any shape or form. If I ever find my work(s) outside of fan spaces where they should be, everything gets locked—that’s a promise, not a threat.

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    AO3:
    #77314441
  19. Shane's suppressants fail mid-game and his secret comes out. He's an omega, and not only that, he's been with Ilya Rozanov for a decade and is now bonded permanently. Shane loses his team but gains everything he never let himself want: a public relationship, a baby, and a life that's messy and real and his.

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    Files:
    2 versions
    AO3:
    #77314096
  20. When Shane finally opened the door to his apartment, he was greeted by a loud, teasing voice that made him grimace. “There he is. Shane Hollander, good guy turned bad.” He shot a sharp glare. “Shut the fuck up,” he muttered, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket before heading toward Ilya. “No, never,” Ilya grinned mischievously. “This has been my wet dream for so long.” Shane looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Me fighting Hunter is your wet dream? Gross.” Ilya towered over him, thumb tracing Shane’s freckles as he stepped closer. “Just you fighting. Would’ve preferred it was me.”

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    AO3:
    #77097116
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