181 – 200 of 416 Works in Protective Ilya Rozanov
- Protective Ilya Rozanov ×
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He Hit Him and it Felt like a Kiss by Dandeliondaisiesdukes
Heated Rivalry (TV), Heated Rivalry (TV) RPF
2026-02-25
When Ilya throws a punch on the ice after a homophobic remark, Shane hates seeing Ilya hurt. They don’t argue and where Shane’s tears finally stop the fight. The locker room is a pressure cooker, but they don’t crack. Not there. Shane keeps his face carefully neutral while he changes, answers a teammate’s joke with the right tone, the right smile. Ilya can feel him watching anyway. Can feel the heat of it without ever looking up. His knuckles throb, split and swollen, but he keeps his hands busy, tapes them himself, jaw locked. When their eyes meet, Shane gives the smallest nod. You good? Ilya nods back. Later. Later is a long drive home with the radio on low and neither of them speaking. Later is the apartment door clicking shut behind them, the quiet rushing in too fast. Shane drops his bag by the door. “I didn’t like that you fought him.” Ilya exhales through his nose. Here we go. “You weren’t supposed to.” “I saw it,” Shane says. “I heard it. I didn’t like it.” “He crossed a line.” “I know,” Shane replies. “That doesn’t mean you had to break your hand.” Ilya turns, irritation flaring. “It’s hockey.” “That’s not an answer.” “It is,” Ilya snaps. “This happens every night.” “And every night I hate it,” Shane shoots back. “I hate watching you get hurt.” Ilya scoffs. “I’m fine.” “You’re bleeding,” Shane says. “You’re always bleeding.” Ilya bristles. “So what, you want me to just stand there?” “No,” Shane says, frustrated. “I want you to stop acting like violence is the only language you have.” That stings. “I didn’t fight because I don’t know any better,” Ilya says coldly. “I fought because someone said something about you.” “And I didn’t ask you to,” Shane fires back. “I don’t want to be the excuse you use to wreck yourself.” “Don’t do that,” Ilya says. “Don’t make it sound like I regret it.” “I’m not,” Shane says. “I’m saying I don’t like watching you pay the price.” “You don’t get to decide how I play,” Ilya snaps. “I’m not trying to,” Shane says. “I’m telling you how it feels to sit there and watch you throw your body into something that could cost you games, seasons, careers—” “So now I’m irresponsible,” Ilya interrupts. “No,” Shane says. “You’re reckless.” Silence slams down between them. Ilya’s voice drops. “You knew who I was.” “And you knew who I was,” Shane shoots back. “Someone who worries. Someone who loves you enough to be scared.” “That’s not my fault.” “I didn’t say it was,” Shane says. “But it is my reality.” Ilya runs a hand through his hair, pacing now. “You think the league is going to protect you? You think refs give a shit?” “I think you getting suspended doesn’t help me,” Shane snaps. “I think you getting concussed doesn’t help me. I think you bleeding on the ice because someone wanted to get under your skin about me doesn’t help either of us.” “So I should just let them say it,” Ilya says bitterly. “Let them think it’s okay.” “I’m asking you to trust me to handle my own battles,” Shane says. “I don’t need you throwing punches for me like I’m made of glass.” “I’m not protecting you because you’re weak,” Ilya says. “I’m protecting you because I love you.” “And I love you,” Shane fires back, voice breaking just a little, “which is why I don’t want to watch you destroy yourself.” “That’s dramatic,” Ilya snaps. “It was one fight.” “It’s never one fight,” Shane says. “It’s always one more.” “You don’t get to cherry-pick parts of me,” Ilya says. “Hockey is violent. You don’t get me without that.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,615
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80209841
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Shane doesn’t realize he’s braced for silent eyes until he feels the absence of it — the weight of teammates immediately finding him and going quiet, waiting for him to fuck up, to say the wrong thing, to exist wrong. He expects the chatter of a room to drop when he enters and its disconcerting to find it doesn't yet in Ottawa.
He stands at the entrance a beat too long.
--
It’s the start of Shane Hollander’s first season in Ottawa and he should be settled. The Centaurs are friendly, the room is easy, and Ilya is finally close enough to touch. But, as Shane is intimately aware of, old habits learned the hard way will linger.
- Part 1 of After the Whistle
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 18,982
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80089206
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Shane Hollander is the closeted captain of the Montreal Voyageurs. Ilya Rozanov is a man with blood on his hands and love in his chest, even if he refuses to name it. What begins as a one-night stand in Boston becomes something deceptively close to forever...but danger lurks at every turn.
- Part 1 of late night devil (put your hands on me)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 12,539
- Chapters:
- 8/8
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77735876
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After coming out to Scott but leaving out some crucial information… Ilya and Shane are caught red handed by him and Kip.
- Part 2 of Hollanov and Scott Hunter
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,534
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79268696
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He carefully adjusted Misha in his arms. The tiny body shifted slightly, his brow furrowing for a split second, but when Ilya placed his hand on his chest and continued humming softly, the child calmed immediately. "Полегче, малыш. (Easy there, little one)," he whispered in Russian. "Papa here." He ran his thumb over his son's soft cheek, just as Irina had once done. So in short, Ilya sings quietly to his son.
- Part 8 of Little Ice Flower
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,499
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80108866
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long game (class acts never fail) by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-23
If you’d already decided love was more than enough, that being together was bigger than fear; if you’d already picked each other over everything else, already picked a season to make it known; if you’d exchanged rings and vows and you knew this was forever and—most significantly—no one’s idiot best friend accidentally outed you early with his stupid side-hustle video scheme: would you stick to the plan?
Or, would you play a slightly longer game to make your point; would you wait a couple extra months if it meant seizing the opportunity to go big, go bold, shove loving this much in the faces of the naysayers and the assholes and the bigots on an oh-so-convenient, quadrennially-available global stage?
~
Or: No FanMail. No outing. No forced free agency. Just their terms. Just their choice. Just their love.
So hell yes: Shane and Ilya use the 2022 Winter Olympics as their hard launch. How’s that even a question?
Scott Hunter’s gonna be so pissed at being upstaged that bad.- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 31,613
- Chapters:
- 4/4
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79748936
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When I Look in the Mirror (I see you too) by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-23
At the MHL awards in Vegas there is only one bathroom back stage, it just so happens Scott Hunter is trying to get a breather when the two people he had been trying to avoid all night come in and seem to miss that he’s there.
What will he overhear? And how will it change things.
- Part 1 of How they find out.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,084
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80095131
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When Ilya finds out of his teammates has been using, his decision to turn him over to coach has the entire team penalized and they lose their momentum right before playoffs. To make matters worse, even after a press release clears the rest of the Raiders of any wrongdoings, the whole league still things Ilya is a cheater. Including Shane's team, who talks about it nonstop until one night he snaps and starts a fight with his own team on the ice.
---
Ilya stepped towards him, hand grazing his elbow to try to get him to loosen up a bit. “You said, earlier, that it was me,” he mumbled. “You fought because of me."“Just a bit,” Shane joked weakly, looking back up at him. “They just- they hate you, Ilya. My parents, my team, my fans. And I hear it so much in the locker room or during practice, but on ice I- I couldn't fucking stand it anymore.”
“Is sweet,” he murmured, threading his hand through Shane’s hair and nudging him to lay his head on his shoulder. “But their words don’t hurt me.”
Shane sighed, nuzzling against the fabric of his shirt for a moment. “Hurts me, though,” he said softly. “I don’t like hearing anyone accuse you of cheating.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 27,503
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80009641
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when a panic attack brings Shane to his knees during a heated Montreal–Boston matchup, the only name he can say is Ilya’s. In front of a stunned arena, Ilya chooses love over rivalry, crossing the ice to hold him and accidentally revealing the secret relationship they can no longer hide.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,129
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80055411
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say whatever you feel (be wherever you are) by minnieishere
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-22
Ilya shifted him gently, until Shane was half across his chest, head tucked under Ilya’s chin. The steady thump of his heartbeat under his ear was a metronome for Shane’s still unsteady rhythm. Shane let his eyes close. The thrumming in his chest was still there, quieter now but never totally gone. But recognising he wasn’t alone, that Ilya would never leave him alone steeled his nerves. or five times Shane Hollander needs a little support, and one time Ilya Rozanov does too.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,966
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80023491
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How to Build a Legacy by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-22
Shane knows the plan to wait to come out until they retire isn't ideal, but he doesn't have a better one. He thinks that he and Ilya can make it work, until his mom points out how long they will have to live their lives in the shadows.
But once he realizes that, he immediately knows that he can't come out. It would ruin his legacy.
He's pretty sure that's why he doesn't want to come out. No other reason. Right?
He is sure that's all it is until Ilya asks him if he would be safe if he came out. And he can't answer.
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or Yuna does the math on the retirement plan and when she points this out it opens Shane's eyes.
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also known as this author had (1) idea for a scene and had to reverse engineer a multi-chapter fic to make it happen.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 37,182
- Chapters:
- 14/14
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79635211
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Shane Hollander is struggling to make ends meet. After his best friend Hayden sets up a dating profile for him on a sugar baby website, he learns that there are some men who will pay for anything - even companionship. ** EPILOGUE ADDED 02/20/26 **
- Part 5 of Hollanov
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 31,935
- Chapters:
- 8/8
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75530036
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Built For The Ice, Not The Lights by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-20
His heartbeat was too fast. His chest felt tight. The microphone foam brushed his knuckles and the texture was suddenly unbearable, coarse, wrong. Too loud. Too bright. Too close. Too much. He needed space. or After an intense game and overwhelming post-game media scrum, Shane hits sensory overload and has a meltdown. Ilya finds him hiding away and stays, grounding him through it and reminding him he doesn’t have to handle everything alone. The worst part wasn’t the game. Shane could handle the game. The game had rules. It had structure. It had the clean geometry of the rink, the crisp bite of steel on ice, the predictable rotation of shifts. Even when it was chaotic, it was a chaos he understood. Pucks moved in patterns. Bodies angled in lines. Systems nested inside systems. Shane had been mapping them in his head since he was a kid. Media Day did not have rules. Or rather, it had too many. “Just be yourself,” the PR woman had said with a bright smile that hurt to look at. “Relax. Smile. Keep your answers light.” Be yourself. Relax. Light. The hallway outside the locker room was already too loud. Reporters clustered like birds, their voices overlapping in sharp bursts. The lights from the camera rigs were brighter than usual, hot and white and relentless. Someone had turned the music up in the dressing room, bass thudding through his ribs. Shane stood at his stall, fingers curled around the edge of the wooden bench. He tried to catalog sensations the way his therapist had taught him. Too bright. Too loud. Fabric itchy at the back of his neck. The elastic in his compression shirt digging into his ribs. Sweat cooling too fast along his spine. He inhaled for four counts. Held for four. Exhaled for four. “Hollander!” someone called. “You ready?” He nodded automatically. He was always ready. Except today his skin felt like it was two sizes too small. The game itself was brutal. Fast, punishing, every hit to his body landing harder than it should. It was the kind of rivalry matchup that fed headlines for weeks. Shane scored once, assisted once, and blocked a shot that left a bruise blooming across his thigh. He played well. He played the way he always did, precise, relentless, methodical. But the crowd was louder than usual, a constant wall of noise pressing against his skull. Every whistle shrieked. Every horn drilled straight through him. When he sat on the bench, the smell of sweat and rubber and ammonia stung the back of his throat. By the third period, his thoughts had started to fragment. Too loud. Too bright. Too much. He missed a pass he would normally make without looking. His stick felt wrong in his hands, the tape uneven. His gloves were damp and suffocating. When the final buzzer sounded and the arena erupted, the sound didn’t feel like celebration. It felt like an explosion. They won. Someone clapped him on the helmet. “Media’s gonna love you tonight, Hollander.” The thought made his heart sink just a little. The hallway afterward was worse. The lights hadn’t dimmed. If anything, they were harsher. Microphones were thrust toward his face, logos flashing. Questions overlapped, voices stacking on top of each other until he couldn’t separate them. “Shane, talk about that second-period goal—” “Was that set play something you practiced—” “How does it feel to beat—” “How much pressure did you feel coming into—” Pressure. He felt pressure everywhere. In his ears. In his teeth. Behind his eyes. He tried to answer the first question. He opened his mouth. The words did not come out in the right order. “I—uh—the play, it was—” The lights flickered slightly as someone adjusted a camera, and the motion snagged his focus. “We practiced—no, I mean—” Someone laughed softly, not unkindly, but it sliced through him anyway. His heartbeat was too fast. His chest felt tight. The microphone foam brushed his knuckles and the texture was suddenly unbearable, coarse, wrong. Too loud. Too bright. Too close. Too much. He needed space.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,604
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79941316
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“Ilya,” he whispers, voice hoarse. “I don’t feel right.” The hand doesn’t pull away. Instead, it slides lower. Shane stiffens as fingers trace down his spine, lingering too long, dipping beneath the hem of his shirt. Skin-on-skin contact sends a jolt through him, not pleasure, not comfort, but something sharp and wrong. His breath catches. Then the hand grips him. Firmly. Possessive. Fingers digging into his ass through his jeans. Shane jerks slightly, confusion slicing through the fog. His heart stutters, a hard, uneven beat that makes his chest ache. That’s… not- *** Someone puts something in Shane’s drink. Ilya is not happy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,944
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78669441
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Ilya can’t be so separate from it all anymore, can’t get by on hotel room visits and brief phone calls when they’re in different time zones. It isn’t enough. Not anymore. Not when every iteration of the future they could have waiting for them one day had collapsed in on itself when Shane hit the ice.
Ty moya zhizn', his mother used to tell him. But it isn’t quite enough in this sense, Ilya decides. He looks at Shane, at Emi, and he thinks instead: Ty moya prodolzhenie.
Not just you are my life, but you are my future.
- Part 2 of mélange
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,675
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79905851
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“Rozanov, back up.”
“Backing up,” Ilya said evenly, “But if he touches my husband again I will explore violence.”
Shane exhaled, resigned. "You are sitting next to me for a reason.”
“Yes,” Ilya agreed. “Leash.”
@downbadinottawa
There are FOSSILS less down than Rozanov. He is WHIPPED and PROUD of it.@montrealdefender
we are getting destroyed by a guy who just publicly admitted his husband controls him. this is the worst timeline.When Ottawa faces Montreal again, Shane keeps it professional. Ilya absolutely does not.
Featuring: one infamous Hollanov Wikipedia page and a professional athlete with a marriage kink.
Translated into Chinese
- Part 3 of This Is Why We Have Media Training
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,733
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79390261
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Warm hands suddenly encased his, pulling them away from his shirt collar and back down onto the table. Shane risked a glance at Ilya and saw only concern and confusion on his face, but he couldn’t keep looking at him directly, couldn’t look him in the eye. Couldn’t let Ilya see him lose it like this, in public, all because the shirt felt wrong. Because it felt too much like being five and ripping hand-knitted jumpers from his body because they hurt. Like needing seams in his socks to sit a certain way. Like a childhood spent tearfully pulling clothes off his body until his parents figured out what fabrics he could tolerate. It felt like being seven and unable to explain to teachers why the other children didn’t like him, why he hid under the tables when the classroom was too noisy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,538
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79854871
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Shane was freaking out. Coming out to his team DID NOT go well. Instead of talking to his friends, or Rose, he calls Ilya.
And then he follows his advice.- Part 1 of Boston AU
- Part 1 of My Autistic Shane Hollander Writings
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,106
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79320546
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Shane Hollander works at a coffee shop, plays hockey, keeps his head down, and doesn’t ask questions he doesn’t need the answers to.
So when a new regular starts showing up—quiet, watchful, Russian-accented, and conducting invitation-only meetings in the back—Shane notices. When that same man takes an unsettling interest in Shane’s closing shifts, his routines, and his safety, Shane does what feels sensible: he adjusts his behavior and keeps his mouth shut.
Ilya Rozanov orders an Americano. He reads, but only in Russian. He worries when people work late alone.
They are operating with very different definitions of danger.
If he didn’t ask questions, he couldn’t be lied to.
The rules were simple.
1. Do not ask questions you don’t need the answer to.
2. Do not share personal information freely.
3. Do not be alone with Ilya Rozanov.
4. Do not give him a reason to think you’re afraid.- Part 1 of Private Meetings and Open Doors
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 71,777
- Chapters:
- 10/10
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #78080711
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Fans and internet passerby alike would agree that this… interaction was not a fight. A fight required the participation of two or more partners. At that moment, Ilya was the only one on the ice. The world fell away at the sight of Shane’s stumble, pulsing gently in and out of frame before cutting out completely and giving way to pure static. His blood turned carbonated, noxious gases inside him that rose and burst him open. At that moment, he and everyone else, including Burt, knew he intended to kill.
Or, Montreal's newest player makes the mistake of fucking with Ilya Rozanov's Husband.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,317
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79739096