361 – 380 of 603 Works in Bottom Shane Hollander
- Bottom Shane Hollander ×
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Shane goes into a planned heat at the cottage.
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- English
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- 1,912
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- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77331916
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this is not enough (i am not enough) by blankjournals
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-08
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.
- Part 2 of missing scenes from TLG 📖
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,428
- Chapters:
- 2/2
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- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #77307681
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Shane has finally convinced Hayden to invite the Bears (Ilya) to his annual NHL Christmas Party. Obviously, Shane can't really help himself when Rozanov finally shows up. What time do I need to be there? I’m getting there at 8. See you at 9, Hollander. Tonight, Shane–and Ilya, apparently–were attending Hayden’s annual NHL Christmas party. This tradition started a few years back, about two after the rivals’ rookie season. Shane didn’t dare to ask to invite Ilya until recently because it would be risky, and just plain stupid. Well, he would venture to say he didn’t invite Ilya, he just mentioned that Boston would be playing in Montreal and it’d be chivalrous to ask the team to join Hayden at his massive penthouse. However, it wasn’t easy to convince him. Shane recalls Hayden’s intense sigh, which was more of a loud, elongated groan, and a dramatic throwing back of his head. It made Shane wonder if the public would rather watch a Pike versus Rozanov rivalry. Anyway, Hayden begrudgingly agreed and Shane fought back a smile. As 8 o’clock approached, Shane stood in front of his bed with three outfits laid out: a suit, a cashmere sweater and jeans, and a button up and slacks. At first he landed on the suit, slipping into it with ease. When he saw himself in the mirror, though, he could basically hear Ilya’s snobby comments. So fancy, Hollander. He shyly blinked a few times to shoo those thoughts and went back into his bedroom. He opted then for the sweater since he figured it’d be too cold for a short sleeve. As he pulled the sweater over his head he took in a deep inhale, hoping it would look presentable, at least. He examined the fit in the mirror once again, this time a small smile twitching up his lips. Shane eyed himself, loving the way his watch sparkled beside the deep blue sleeve and how his pants fit perfectly. Ilya returned in his mind, this time saying looking good, Hollander. This comment wasn’t sarcastic, it sent shivers down Shane’s neck, all the way to his lower back. The time now was 8:15, so Shane began his drive to Hayden’s. This was a drive he’s done a million times, so why was he so nervous? To distract himself from the anxiety that began to bubble up in his stomach he turned up the radio. It was playing some trashy pop song, and it honestly didn’t help him very much. Parking a few blocks away, Shane took the two minute walk to fix his hair. As his fingers wandered through the strands, he wondered if Ilya was on his way. Though he saw the man a week ago, both on the rink and in his private suite, he was anxious to see him again. Of course, nothing was going to happen, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy just being in his presence. Yes, Ilya was usually an asshole, and, yes, Ilya loved being an asshole, but Shane knew that wasn’t all he was. Shane reached the front door and could immediately hear music blasting. It was honestly pretty similar to what the radio had been playing. He wished Hayden threw a more festive Christmas party–one with mistletoe and charcuterie boards and vintage music. Instead it felt more like a club. Which, of course, Shane still enjoyed, but he liked slow moments, too. When he stepped inside he was greeted by a very, very drunk Hayden: “Shane! Ugh, you missed it, I, um,” Hayden took a deep breath and tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “Yeah, man, you missed it,” was all he could conjure. Shane shook his head and exhaled a laugh, “Already had a lot to drink?” “No, no, just a few shots.” Shane tilted his head in doubt. “Maybe a few glasses of wine, too,” Hayden smirked, “you want some?” “Uh, no, you have ginger ale?” “God, man, it’s fucking Christmas! Have a drink!” “I’m okay.” Shane shook his head and looked past Hayden. He saw Scott Hunter, still as handsome as he remembered, JJ, and a few other players he recognized by name. No Rozanov. “So, uh, you have some?” “Yeah, man, whatever. It’s in the cooler over there,” Hayden slurred, unimpressed. Shane patted him on the shoulder as he passed by. Under a table covered with drinks, Shane found a few coolers and opened a few before finding one filled with sodas. He reached for the coldest ale there was and grabbed it, quickly pulling back the tab and popping it open. As he took his first sip, he felt something brush against his arm. His eyes followed the sensation and noticed Ilya standing beside him, analyzing the different bottles of vodka laid out on the table. Shane quickly looked forward and cleared his throat, attempting to keep his gaze ahead. In his peripheral, he could see Ilya grazing his index finger over the lids of various drinks, mumbling something under his breath. Finally, he landed on one that satisfied him and poured a hefty amount in his glass. After taking a swig, Ilya turned his body toward Shane and leaned against the table. Shane couldn’t help but admire him. Unlike Shane, Ilya was wearing a loose shirt with the top three buttons undone. His cross laid perfectly underneath his collarbones, and Shane could see his stupid tattoo peaking out. For bottoms, Ilya wore tight fitted black pants and a belt with a chic silver buckle. The way the denim followed the muscles of his thighs made Shane blush. Ilya’s hair was loose golden curls, and it fell on his forehead in a way that complimented him beautifully. Without meaning to, Shane was checking Ilya out. “Like what you see, Hollander?” Ilya said, low enough that only Shane could hear. He quickly shook his head, leading his gaze back to what was in front of him. “Shut up,” he mumbled, taking another sip. Ilya smirked, his mole raising slightly as lips curled up. He hummed in response, scanning Shane in a way that made him take a sharp breath. He felt his whole body heat up as the Russian undressed him with his eyes. Shane quickly sped away from the situation, fearing that it would be too obvious if he stayed. As he walked away, Ilya couldn’t help but stare.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,604
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77311206
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floating in awe (and wonder) by brokencomatose
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-08
“when we finish breakfast, i want you to go back up to our room. you will wait for me to take anya out and then I will come to you. you have choice- sit on edge of bed or sit in middle of bed. whatever you think will be most comfortable. okay?” shane pauses in the process of finishing off his second piece of toast, the bread halfway to his mouth as he blinks at Ilya a few times. “but-” “no,” ilya’s voice is low but firm, and he reaches his free hand out to nudge shane’s towards his mouth and waits until the other takes another bite before he continues. “you want to be good, yes?” shane nods almost immediately, the flush on his cheeks darkening to a deeper pink as he does so. “of course. but we need-” “to be good boy, that means that you will listen. you trust me to take care of you.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,175
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77337546
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Ilya and Shane are snowed in.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,604
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77316371
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Shane gets drunk and decides to get a tattoo for his boyfriend, his boyfriend likes it. A lot. “This is such a stupid idea, you do realize that?” He did. He really fucking did, but it was also possibly the best idea he’d ever had. Hayden had been trying to talk him out of it for the last hour, since the idea had wiggled its way into Shane’s head - to no avail, obviously. They had gone out drinking, a rare feat for Shane, but it was the end of the season, they had made it to round two of the playoffs before Ilya and the raiders had knocked them out. He was bummed for a couple days, obviously, but they had played a hell of a season, and if Ilya managed to get another cup under his belt with the raiders before he moved to the Centaurs, it would be a good way to go. He would be proud of his boyfriend. The night had started pretty normal, Hayden and J.J. dragged him from his apartment, promising he wouldn’t pay for a single drink tonight (which didn’t really sway him, he was rich for fuck sake), but what did it was the promise to let him drunk ramble about his sexy, wonderful, cup winning (probably) boyfriend. And so he did. He had a couple beers, more than what he’d allow during the season, and talked their ear off. After having nobody to talk to about his gay awakening, and then tying down said gay awakening, it was good to finally have people he could rely on. Someone to sit and listen while he waxed poetic about Ilyas jawline while downing his 5th beer. Beer number 6 had been his tipping point. They had been on their way to their third bar (J.J. said it wasn’t fun unless they bar hopped the whole street) when the neon sign caught Shane’s attention. ‘Sirens Ink’ in bright blue letters ‘walk-ins’ flashing below it. He had never thought about getting a tattoo before, not that he didn’t like them. Ilyas collection had him drooling more than once, but he had never seen himself as the type of person to get something engraved on his body forever. He was too indecisive for that. But this. This was a good middle ground. His friend from high school, one of the few he had kept somewhat in contact with since becoming a household name, had posted an Instagram story about his new tattoo just last week. He had his bottom lip pulled down, revealing ‘YOLO’ in bold black letters. He had been so intrigued that he’d googled ‘inside lip tattoo’ and seen a bunch of people had done it. Most of his research had told him it hurt like hell, but it was funny seeing other peoples reactions, people didn’t often regret them, and if they did it wasn’t a big deal because people couldn’t see it unless they showed it off, the added bonus being it faded quick. At the time he had shrugged it off, and sent his friend a “cool!” DM. But walking past the shop had given him the idea, sure he couldn’t imagine getting something people would see, something people could judge just by glancing at him. But this, this he could hide. He could go about his day with nobody knowing he even had a tattoo. So here they were. Shane sitting in the chair, Hayden pacing back and forth just a few feet to his right, and J.J. attempting to hold his phone steady as the tattoo artist set up his station, Shane holding his bottom lip down for easy access, the stencil already in place. “You’re really going to do this aren’t you?” Hayden asked, stopping his movement and giving Shane a dejected look. Shane just shrugged and sent him the best smile he could with his bottom teeth on full display, ‘ROZANOV’ sitting pretty on his bottom lip. “He is going to lose it!” J.J. called from his other side, Shane wasn’t sure if he was referring to Hayden or Ilya but both was probably right. That had been another hard driving point for Shane, Ilya would lose his mind, he’d take one look at the tattoo and fuck Shane into next week. He was counting on it. The humor left Shane’s body as he heard the first buzz of the machine, sitting straighter and tugging on his lip that much more. “You ready?” The artist asked, a glint of humour in his own eyes. Shane just nodded stiffly and closed his eyes, preparing for the pain. —— It hadn’t taken half as long as Shane was banking on, thank god, but once he was done, the machine finally off, the room was silent. Shane still held his lip down, and looked toward his best friend who just rolled his eyes. He shrugged as if to say ‘well! Hows it look?’ To which Hayden scoffed and gripped his arm that wasn’t stiff, pulling him up and toward a mirror. Shane looked at himself, his eyes slightly glazed, cheeks red, and his lip. It was bleeding slightly around the bold letters, but it looked good. It looked so good. He felt good too, branded in the most secretive way. He felt fucking beautiful, having Ilyas name on him (semi) permanently. He laughed, the giddy sound breaking the tense room, and it put everyone else at ease, J.J. started cackling again, the tattoo artist letting out a breath and chuckling, even Hayden rolled his eyes fondly. This was such a good idea. He wouldn’t see Ilya until they either won the cup or were kicked from the playoffs, so he had to keep it a secret, he wanted to see Ilyas reaction up close and personal. That was fine, he could keep a secret just fine. —— It was another two weeks before he seen Ilya, the raiders had lost in the final round of the playoffs, losing in game four to Florida. It was a good fight, but it just wasn’t looking good from the start, the Raiders were on fucking fire, but Florida had just been better. Ilya was pissed, obviously. Coming that close just to lose always stung, but Shane had something to cheer him up. Shane had been at the cottage for the last week, getting everything ready, buying ingredients for tuna melts, stocking up on ginger ale and cokes, ensuring they had enough fire wood, domestic shit they wouldn’t want to do once Ilya got there. Today was the day, he was finally going to see Ilya again, he was counting down the seconds to hearing the keys at the front door. The tattoo had healed, it didn’t take very long for the swelling to go down, and he found himself staring at it whenever he saw a reflective surface.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,979
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77293701
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“So,” Ilya interrupted, holding up a finger. “You believe I am not strong enough? That your boyfriend, who lifts you against walls and carries you to bed, is too weak to handle you? That my face would break under the glorious weight of your perfect ass?” Shane blinked. (or, Shane refuses to sit on Ilya's face and Ilya takes personal offense to it.) Tag to be covered: Ilya Rozanov Has a Thigh Kink
- Part 2 of Crashing out over Hollanov
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,349
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77326571
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hayden pike needs brain bleach by peiceabread
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-08
Hayden pike walks in on his best friend and his boyfriend and finds out more then he needed to know bout a phone call from years ago or Hayden finds out what really happened during his phone call with Shane while Shane was at his cottage or someone find Hayden a good therapist he has seen and heard to much
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,264
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77336016
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you felt like home (now i'm homesick). by r8diohead
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-08
After years of hiding his dynamic, all Shane wants is to spend a normal heat with his boyfriend, Ilya Rozanov. This proves to be difficult when nobody knows he's secretly mated to his archrival.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,202
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77308261
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Then Ilya’s mouth was there. Right on the spot. His lips pressed a soft, lingering kiss to that exact patch of skin below Shane’s navel. It was a combination of the location, the tenderness of the gesture so at odds with Ilya’s usual aggressive passion, and the sheer accumulated sensitivity of weeks of focused attention that broke the dam. or, that picture of Ilya kissing Shane's lower belly broke my brain.
- Part 1 of Crashing out over Hollanov
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,653
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77267376
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Ilya: No goals. I am not sure you deserve the treat I promised you earlier ;) Shane: I don’t remember you saying anything about scoring. Only winning. Ilya: I don’t know, Hollander. I may have to be convinced. OR After Shane’s first game in the league without Ilya, Ilya rewards him for the team’s win. The Ottawa Centaurs had won their first game of the season 2-0 against their Florida rivals. Shane should be thrilled, the rink had been packed with fans cheering on their home team and Wyatt Hayes had shut out the other team with a few highlight worthy saves. Both Zane Boodram and Troy Barrett had scored goals, leading the team to victory, but despite all of this, Shane didn’t feel the same excitement he normally felt winning. While his teammates were celebrating, he had been rushing through his after game routine in order to get out of the locker room as soon as possible. It was the first season that Shane and Ilya weren’t playing together as Ilya had decided to retire after they’d won the Stanley Cup back to back over the last two seasons. When Shane joined the Centaurs during free agency 5 years ago, the team had begun creating a dynasty with the two best forwards in the league. Shane was forever grateful that he’d gotten to play with Ilya during those five seasons, but he wished they had more time together. Shane had been convinced that they would retire together, but Ilya was done with hockey and Shane knew that he had at least a few years left with the sport he loved. Despite Shane’s mixed emotions, he knew that Ilya was excited to focus on other things like the Irina Foundation, spending the day with their dog Anya, and finally being a hockey WAG. Ilya had spent the day stressing about his first impression as a WAG even though he’d already known a majority of the women who made up the group. Shane had managed to distract him before the game started and when Ilya had left the house to meet the WAGs before the game, he’d been thrilled to catch up on all of the gossip. Shane may have missed seeing Ilya on the ice, but he was excited to have someone waiting for him outside the locker room. He dug his phone out of his bag and powered it on, he disliked the distractions that came with it buzzing away from notifications during his pregame rituals or when he was trying to stay focused in between periods. As soon as the screen turned on, he navigated to his texts, sending a quick thank you to his parents and Hayden who’d sent him congratulations on the win. When he opened his thread with Ilya, he saw multiple messages waiting for him: Ilya: I cannot believe you missed that shot. Ilya: Congrats on the assist. It is still not a goal though. Ilya: Wow that save by Hayes was impressive. Ilya: I have started a bet with Harris about who will score a goal first. You or Troy? Ilya: You owe me $100 bucks. I cannot believe Troy scored before you. Ilya: No goals. I am not sure you deserve the treat I promised you earlier ;) Ilya: I am proud of you. Shane’s heart warmed at the teasing, happy that Ilya had taken the time to text him during the game even though he knew that Shane kept his phone off. He racked his brain, running through the various ways he could respond to the messages, before replying. Shane: I don’t remember you saying anything about scoring. Only winning. Ilya: I don’t know, Hollander. I may have to be convinced. Shane smiled and set his phone down to finish getting dressed. Once he was done, he turned towards his teammates and congratulated them on the win. A few of the younger guys were going to celebrate at a nearby club and attempted to invite Shane, but he passed on the invitation. He wasn’t a fan of the chaos that came with the scene and he had better things to do with his night. He exited the locker room, finding Ilya and Harris leaning against the wall and laughing. Shane was glad that Ilya didn’t have to be the only husband in the WAG group and that the Centaurs as a whole were extremely supportive of their relationship. It had been rough when they were outed to the league and Montreal had turned their back on Shane. Thankfully, he’d been accepted with open arms by the team he’d grown up rooting for. Ilya’s eyes lit up when he spotted Shane, waving him over. He walked up to the men and Ilya gave him a kiss. “You will never guess what Harris was just telling me,” Ilya said excitedly. “His parents found another dog at the orchard. It is a sign.” Shane looked at the two men suspiciously. He wasn’t going to say no to an abandoned dog and Ilya knew that, but part of him wondered if it was all a ploy for Ilya to bring home a dog from the shelter that he’d fallen in love with. It all felt too coincidental for a dog to appear at the orchard the same day Ilya suggested getting Anya a companion. “That’s awful. People who abandon dogs like that are evil,” Shane agreed. “Do you have any leads on who did it?” “My family set up cameras around the property because it was happening so often. They already have the license plate to the cops, but Troy and I were going to foster her until she found a home,” Harris said. “That’s great. What type of dog is she?” Shane asked. He wasn’t going to say no, especially now that Ilya was home all day, but he still wanted to see what he was getting himself into. “She’s a mixed breed. Not very big either. Here, I’ve got a picture.” Harris pulled out his phone and showed Shane a picture of a small dog curled up next to his dog Chiron. “Oh she’s tiny,” Shane cooed. He was already half in love with the dog himself now just from seeing the photos. Ilya looked thrilled as he took in Shane’s reaction. He probably could already tell that Shane was going to say yes. “I guess we could take her off of your hands,” Shane said, trying to come off as nonchalant. “Ilya has been wanting another dog anyways, and she seems like the perfect edition.” “I knew you weren’t going to be able to resist her cute face,” Ilya cheered. “I cannot wait to pick her up and spoil her rotten.”
- Part 2 of Ilya’s WAG Chronicles
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,913
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77236311
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Ilya dug deeper into the bag and pulled out a sturdy, leather dog collar, dark brown and buckled. Quick as a wink, he held it up, dangling it directly at Shane’s neck. "You make cute puppy. Shchenok Shane."
Shane glared, his face heating up instantly, and slapped Ilya's hand away. "Stop it!"
Ilya advanced closer, his stance casual, yet dominating. "I am serious. Consider this gift. It says, 'I belong to Ilya Rozanov.'... Come on. Put it on. Be my good boy."
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 32,145
- Chapters:
- 5/5
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #74771191
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Ilya realises that Shane doesn’t just respond to his needs during sex. He's taking orders – and getting off on it. They both are. Get on your knees. That had been the first time Ilya had tested Hollander's boundaries directly. He had noticed during their first couple interactions that Hollander seemed to like the guidance that Ilya gave him. Ilya relished in it; Hollander was the first person who seemed to actually listen to him and do what he was told to do. It was thrilling. But Ilya didn’t realise the depth of Hollander’s submissive streak right away. The first time he had invited him to drink more water, that day in the hotel gym, Hollander had done it immediately. Ilya had figured that Hollander had just had permission to take more than what he thought he was allowed to and didn’t think anything of it. When Hollander had admitted that being with Ilya was his first time being with a man, Ilya assumed that he was shy and nervous, his brown eyes docile and timid. Ilya was determined to make it as easy as possible for Hollander to explore – whatever this was. He remembered being nervous with Sasha, and how Sasha had coached him patiently in how to fuck men. Ilya had been so focused on being good in bed that he hadn’t had too much time to be truly terrified, which was great for him, but Ilya could tell that wasn’t Hollander’s motivator. And that first night in Hollander’s hotel room had left Ilya with questions. The way Hollander had immediately dropped to his knees once Ilya had pressed his thumb into his mouth was...something. Like he’d been given some sort of unspoken permission to do something Ilya would have never told him he couldn’t do, and once he got it, he came alive. Ilya had never experienced someone become so dazed before, so lost inside sex that the outside world didn’t even seem to exist anymore. His eyes...it was like Hollander wasn’t truly in his body. The way Hollander hadn’t asked for reassurance, for guidance, the way he needed to know if what he was doing was good but refused to ask Ilya outright was surprising, but Ilya could feel that he needed it. He'd praised him, of course – Ilya had never come so quick in his life, and he was sure Hollander would have known from that alone that he was good at sex, despite his inexperience. Or maybe in spite of it. But when he stared into those big, sad brown eyes, surrounded by the prettiest freckles he’d ever seen, Ilya could tell that Hollander was less worried about the sex being good, and more worried about Ilya feeling good. It was an important distinction to someone like Ilya, who spent most of his free time bringing people to orgasm because watching the exact moment they fell apart because of him was better than any drink or drug he’d ever taken. Knowing that he was responsible for someone losing control like that, crying out his name, was powerful. He felt powerful in those moments. Useful. And somehow, none of those moments felt anywhere near as heady as when he had made Hollander cry out for him, his strong hands buried in his hair, desperately trying to yank him off his cock as he came, unable to push Ilya off of him because his body was completely at Ilya’s mercy. Nothing had ever felt as good as watching Hollander’s eyes become faraway, filled with unshed tears, red rimmed and desperate as he stared up at Ilya, waiting to take whatever he would give him. Because Hollander didn’t need him. He wanted him. Ilya could feel the difference. He needed more. And he was certain Hollander needed more, too. Ilya tested the boundary again the next time they hooked up. He gently requested Hollander get on his knees, just to see what he would do, and Hollander dropped to the floor so fast Ilya couldn’t believe it. He'd half expected Hollander to tell him to go fuck himself, or to get on his knees instead. But Hollander had hit the ground so hard Ilya had flinched at the sound of his knees hitting the floor, barely able to breathe as Hollander desperately pulled his sweatpants down and suckled at his cock so fast Ilya nearly came right then and there. So, he’d been curious. More than curious. Fixated. Obsessed. Unable to stop thinking about what Hollander would let him do to him. He found himself wishing the women he would meet in every city would somehow reveal themselves to have the same quirks so Ilya could indulge himself with them, and stop thinking about fucking Hollander. But he couldn’t. Ilya couldn’t stop thinking about Hollander, and god knows he’d tried not to think about him. Tried not to think about when he’d ordered Hollander onto his stomach, how he had flipped over immediately for him, despite being nervous. He'd tried not to think about how when Ilya had asked him if he’dbeen fucked before, Hollander had tensed, but when he pressed a finger against his hole, he’d relaxed completely under his touch. How when Ilya had tried to find out if Hollander was a virgin, he had offered up that he fucked himself with a dildo. How when Ilya had pressed two fingers inside him that night, Hollander had scoffed and said he could take more than that, but refused to tell Ilya how big his dildo was. How when Ilya fucked him, Hollander’s eyes would become wetter and more intense, how all he could do was stare at Ilya through heavy breaths and frantically touch every part of him, moaning his name. The more Ilya tried not to think about Hollander, the more he became consumed by him. Ilya needed to know what else he could instruct Hollander to do. Within reason, of course. Ilya just wanted to give Hollander everything he didn’t know he needed.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,471
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77253946
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Ilya tuts, clearly he hadn’t unlocked the magic words, using his free hand he points downwards, again Shane needs a few seconds to process what is being requested of him before it finally clicks; hesitates, but not long enough to regain any dignity because he’s sinking to the floor just inches from the couch. Crawling towards Ilya on all fours, driven only by that desperation for another man. Thinks he’s going to get it, thinks he’s going to be rewarded - to be comforted over such a brutal loss by getting to feel that soothing weight on his tongue, couldn’t be more wrong. the text exchange earlier has unlocked something sadistic within the Russian, usually a couple of well timed whines, lots of eye contact and a few pleases is enough to get Ilya to give in. Not today however, today he’s p*ssed. or Ilya finds a new way to humiliate Shane much to Shane's enjoyment (and despair).
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,785
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77279001
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In which Ilya’s phone gets hacked and his photo album detailing his and shane’s relationship is leaked to the world. Shane doesn’t understand at first why he would have kept all the photos—the evidence, but he learns to understand.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,312
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77252546
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Shane Hollander does not go to parties seeking out Ilya Rosanov. He hardly even knows him, but he’s already impossible to ignore. When their worlds collide for the first time at a crowded party, one look, one word, one challenge might be enough to change everything… or at least make Shane question how much he’s willing to let someone in. Or, the fic where Shane and Ilya never even got to know each other, until one fateful night at a party where everything changes.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 12,734
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77282076
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Ilya and Shane's wedding day, followed by some honeymoon fluff and smut
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,613
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77290421
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Hollanov NSFW Sketches by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
A place for my half-baked Hollanov NSFW. It was inevitable folks. This is NSFW fanart.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 0
- Chapters:
- 8/?
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77266151
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Ilya loves being Shane's dog. He hopes he's good enough to earn it.
- Part 2 of Dog
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,219
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77249376
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But I hate when I feel like this (and I never hated you) by SatsumaSegments
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-06
At the base of Shane Hollander’s throat is a dark red hickey. It’s fresh, no more than a day or two old, stark and striking against his otherwise unblemished skin. Ilya feels possessed. -- Shane shows up to the Montreal vs Boston game in ep4 with a hickey. Ilya takes it about as well as you'd expect. (In which they're definitely hatefucking because they definitely hate each other and definitely don't feel anything else towards each other. Don't worry. Nothing to see here. Especially not any tenderness or love. Nope.)
- Part 1 of Leave the rest at arm's length
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,043
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77200566