541 – 560 of 565 Works in Bottom Shane Hollander
- Bottom Shane Hollander ×
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“Shane- Hey. Hey.” His voice cracks. A tremor runs through his hands as he turns Shane carefully onto his side, supporting his head so it doesn’t flop. The warmth of Shane’s skin is still there, but it feels wrong now, like a warning instead of an invitation. Fuck. What the hell just happened? He tries to steady himself, but his hands are trembling so badly that they fumble over Shane’s body, checking for any sign that he’s okay. A pulse. Anything. His head is racing, his chest tight with panic. When he finds the pulse, fast, irregular, but there, Ilya exhales shakily. But it doesn’t help the wave of dread crashing over him. - Shane passes out during sex, and it freaks Ilya out.
- Language:
- English
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- 2,019
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75666621
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Shane turned Ilya Rozanov down in a dingy locker room once. Today he chooses him for the room.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,360
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75667776
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“First, I ravish you,” Ilya murmurs, his lips brushing Shane’s bruised ribs, sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. “Apologize for injury I gave.” Shane’s breath hitches as Ilya’s hand slides down his body toward his ass. He can barely breathe when that rough fingertip brushes his hole, and it’s not because of the bruised ribs. “And then?” he asks, voice breathless. Ilya looks up, eyes dark and heavy with desire. He presses one final kiss to the marred skin before digging his fingers deeper into Shane’s skin, making him gasp. “And then, I give you new bruises. Better ones to remind you of me.” or; Ilya feels bad for being rough with Shane on ice… Shane, on the other hand, is kinda into it.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,089
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75578446
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At the secluded cottage, Shane and Ilya's intimate evening takes a turn as Ilya proposes something new.
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- English
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- 2,161
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75594731
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own version of semaphore by epistrophic
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-11
Lily: are you clean? Me: what? Me: i mean yes obviously Me: but why? Lily: if you want, i will fuck you raw after we play tonight Boston, 2015. Ilya has a suggestion.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,655
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75617421
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taste of control by beetlesandstars, kryptonian
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-11
“So,” Ilya starts, drumming his fingers on his knees. “You want tuna melt when we get home?” “What?” Shane says, distracted. “We just had dinner.” “Yes,” Ilya says. “But you had children’s portion.” Shane sends him an incredulous look. “I had two servings.” “Of baby food.” “Ilya.” “Shane.” Shane sighs. “Can we not do this? Please.” Unfortunately for Shane, they must do this. Or: Shane's restrictive eating versus Hayden Pike and Ilya Rozanov.
- Part 1 of cjo + hr
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- English
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- 11,262
- Chapters:
- 1/1
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- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #75597311
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i clutched your arms (like stairway railings). by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-11
He was alone because Ilya had left because Ilya always had to leave. [...] He felt horrible. Ilya had left. Maybe Shane hadn’t been good enough? No, he would’ve left anyway. He always left.
But maybe he would’ve stayed a little longer if Shane had been better? Maybe if he’d been better, used more of those tricks he’d been trying to learn, he wouldn’t have left so soon. Maybe he would’ve wanted to stay like Shane wanted him to stay. Would’ve wanted to hold him like Shane wanted to ask him to do. Maybe Shane wouldn’t be trapped in this cavernous space between worlds, feeling like he was free-falling, searching for the path out of this emptiness.
OR
Shane experiences sub-drop for the first time. Ilya holds him through it.
- Language:
- English
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- 2,692
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75601531
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don’t touch, that’s the rush by starblushed
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-10
He liked it when Rozanov held him down, more than he would ever admit, liked those big hands around his waist, around his wrists, pressing on his back so his chest would lie flat on the bed and his back would arch to give Rozanov the perfect angle to take him apart. He liked it when Rozanov held him tightly and kissed him gently, he liked it when Rozanov looked at him like he was the only thing in the world. Omegaverse Ilya and Shane try something new in bed, with unexpected consequences.
- Part 1 of HARD (hollanov omegaverse)
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- English
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- 4,052
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75567221
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Shane loves yoga. It has always been an escape for him—an escape from his body and his mind. When a bunch of other NHL players interrupt him in a hotel gym during a conference, he is not surprised when they make fun of him, but he is surprised when Ilya asks him to teach them a few poses and they all go along with it. He gets to show off his flexibility, and it seems harmless enough to show off a little extra for Ilya, until-
“Holy shit, Hollander, wait—can you suck your own cock?”
- Language:
- English
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- 10,243
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- 1/1
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- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #75554896
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“...Hollander,” He hears Rozanov say, urgent like it’s not the first time he’s said it. “Shane,” he follows it up with, and that snaps him out of it. He’s never called him that. Shane, reluctantly, lifts his face a little, eyes glazed over as he meets Rozanov’s eyes. “What?” “You stink,” Rozanov says, concern dripping. “No, you—fuck. You reek. What is—” Ilya’s fingers lift up, tugging at the scent patch, revealing more of the spot beneath it. Even Shane can smell himself at that point. He does reek. Reeks of heat, of Omega, of honey and sweetness, of something that would melt on your tongue. Shane reefs himself back. The Omega inside him aches, mourns, whimpers at the loss of contact. It’s needed, though. He scrambles back, hand slapping at his neck to force the peeled patch back down over his scent gland. He backs up till his spine knocks against the bathroom stall. “You are in heat at award show? Why would you hide this? Why would you not call out sick? Are you—are you insane? You care this much about trophy?” OR Shane goes into heat in Vegas
- Language:
- English
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- 7,198
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- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75437331
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June 2014, Las Vegas Post the Las Vegas Scene, sub!Shane drops hard and Dom!Ilya races to save him. **** From Jane: We didn't even kiss Shane didn't mean to send the text. He was so dizzy and cold and unsteady after leaving Ilya's room, he didn't even remember if he HAD sent the text. His fingers were too numb to undo his shirt buttons, he felt like the floor was dropping out from beneath him, he was nauseous and exhausted and didn't know why he couldn't stop shaking, why couldn't he stop shaking...? From Jane: ww dnt v ks The text came through as gibberish, and “Fuck.” Ilya threw his clothes back on and ran to get to Shane's hotel room. He'd been too far in his head to pay attention to Shane being quiet and shivering after they were done. Shane had stumbled getting out of bed, bumped into furniture, struggled with the door and Ilya had heard it but he'd been too much of a coward to get out of bed and check and now his submissive was sending gibberish texts and that wasn't good. “Sorry sorry sorry.” Ilya muttered as he ran. “I’m coming. I’m coming, hold on.”
- Part 2 of Heated Rivalry
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- English
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- 6,117
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75332731
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it's okay to just admit that i'm the fantasy by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-06
Ilya grins, relishing in the hitch in Hollander's voice. “Is nice when you beg,” he murmurs, before he drops both his hands to Hollander's waist, smoothly undoing the button on his jeans. “Your voice, it gets soft? High?” He shakes his head as Hollander kicks his pants off, leaving him in just socks and his briefs, his dick dripping, a spot of damp precum that's growing against the fabric. Ilya drags his top off but keeps his sweats on, grinning broadly at the other man. “I do not know words for it. But I do know—you are needy, Shane Hollander. Greedy for me.”
OR: Ilya has a lot of wants these days. One of which is a near constant desire to see Shane Hollander ruined in his sheets.
- Part 1 of heated rivalry masterlist
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,562
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75288091
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with a temper like you by starblushed
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-05
Lily: What did Hunter say to piss you off? Me: What? Lily: You got in a fight with him last night. Lily: Why? Ilya confronts Shane after the fight with Scott Hunter on the ice, and edges the truth out of him.
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- English
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- 2,390
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75286816
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Printer’s Alley by OpalApparition
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2025-12-05
They’re not dating. They’re barely even friends. Shane should be in bed preparing for tomorrow’s game. But when Ilya shows up in Nashville wearing a stupid cowboy hat and that dangerous smile, things go from routine to risky: meeting up with Rozanov is a terrible idea. Dancing with him in a crowded bar where anyone could see is worse. But Shane’s never been good at saying no to Rozanov.
- Language:
- English
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- 6,961
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75253541
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“Fuck yourself,” Ilya said without shame. “With me. Right here. Right now.” He pulled back just enough to look Shane in the eye. The suggestion was so blunt, so depraved. They were in a public facility, for fuck's sake. They could get caught. “I can’t,” Shane whispered, the denial tasting like shit in his mouth. He felt his own cock stirring, thickening against his thigh, and he winced. “You can,” Ilya insisted. He leaned against the tiled wall, one hand moving down his own body. “Look at me, Hollander. Watch.” All Shane Hollander wanted was to shower off the stink of a loss. He didn't expect Ilya Rozanov to join him, let alone to call him out on the hard on he'd been trying to ignore. "Fuck yourself," Rozanov dares him. And, God help him, Shane does. Shane Hollander kicked off the ice, chest tight, legs burning. The game was over, and they’d lost--again. He’d left everything out there, and it still wasn’t enough. The locker room door slammed open. He needed the shower, get the smell of his gear off of him. He peeled off his jersey, tugging it over his head, and felt the fabric cling to his skin from sweat. The thing he hated most about hockey was how disgusting you felt afterwards. Relief came as he stripped the rest of his gear. Socks, skates, his cup, and he immediately felt better. He moved toward the row of showers at the back, looking over his shoulder the locker seemed to be empty, and he was grateful for it. He stepped under the first head, flicking the lever and letting hot water hiss to life. The sudden spray hit him, shoulders first, then back, chest, arms. He tilted his head under the pounding stream, closing his eyes. The heat pressed against his skin, loosening the tight coil in his muscles, but the frustration stayed. “Still brooding, Captain?” Hollander kept his eyes closed, face up into the spray, letting the hot water fan down over him. “Go away, Rozanov,” he said. Rozanov’s laugh came. “Is that how you speak to me after a hard loss? We should be bonding,” he said, and Shane could hear the other shower turning on somewhere across the room. “Sharing our pain, no?.” Shane’s jaw clenched beneath the water. There was nothing he wanted to share--not with Rozanov. The memory of the final shot hit him again, the puck teasing the edge of the net, his blade missing it. He’d fanned on the shot, left the game on the ice, and no amount of ice baths or post game analysis would fix it. Nor would being harassed in the shower by Rozanov. “There’s nothing to share,” he said, the sound almost swallowed by the hiss of water. He wanted the isolation. And sharing it with Rozanov... felt like opening the wound and inviting someone else to poke at it. The water beat down on his shoulders, tracing the lines his bruises and Shane let himself sink into it. He didn’t need Rozanov’s commentary to make the bitter pill of failure any harder to swallow. He had enough voices in his own head for that. “I disagree,” Ilya’s voice was closer now, right behind him. Shane could feel the heat from his body, a separate warmth from the steam. “I see much pain. In your shoulders. In your jaw... In your cock.” A finger, warm and calloused, traced the line of Shane’s clenched jaw. “Is bad for you to hold so much... tension.” Shane flinched away, turning finally to glare at him. “Don’t touch me.” But his protest felt weak, even to him. Ilya stood there, completely unashamed, water sliding down his broad chest and over the hard muscle of his stomach. “Why not?” Ilya asked, his head tilted. “Nothing to be ashamed of.” He took a step closer, invading Shane’s space. Shane’s breath hitched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, his voice rough. Ilya’s smile was slow, knowing. “Yes, you do.” He let his gaze drop, pointedly, to Shane’s cock. “See? Your body knows. It is honest.” “Fuck you,” Shane breathed, but there was no venom in it. “Maybe later,” Ilya said, his voice a low purr. “For now, there is simpler way to… release tension.” He leaned in, his lips brushing Shane’s ear. Hollander’s heart hammered against his ribs. “What?” “Fuck yourself,” Ilya said without shame. “With me. Right here. Right now.” He pulled back just enough to look Shane in the eye. The suggestion was so blunt, so depraved. They were in a public facility, for fuck's sake. They could get caught. “I can’t,” Shane whispered, the denial tasting like shit in his mouth. He felt his own cock stirring, thickening against his thigh, and he winced. “You can,” Ilya insisted. He leaned against the tiled wall, one hand moving down his own body, slow and deliberate. “Look at me, Hollander. Watch.” His eyes never left Shane’s as his fingers wrapped around his own cock, already thick and hard. He gave a slow, lazy stroke, his breath catching slightly. “See? Nothing to be afraid of.”
- Part 4 of heated rivalry: explicit collection
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- English
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- 1,293
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75201741
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“We race.” Ilya pushed his shorts down and gripped his cock, smiling when Shane’s eyes dropped down to watch. “You run and I will touch myself. You do not stop, and I will not stop. Deal?” “You’re serious.” Shane huffed and folded his arms. “What happens if I win? If I last longer than you?” “If you win?” Ilya arched an eyebrow towards him. “You get to see me cum.” “Right.” Shane wished his voice hadn’t cracked just then. “And that’s supposed to be a reward?” “Yes.” Ilya bent one knee so his shorts pulled tight across his thighs, across the outline of his cock. “Obviously.” “And if I lose?” Shane swallowed nervously. “If I quit before you’re done. What then?” “...then you get to see me cum.” it came out nearly a growl in Ilya’s thick accent. “As punishment.” “Fuck.” Shane got back on the goddamn treadmill and hit the start button. “Fuck. Fine. Let’s go.”
- Part 1 of Heated Rivalry
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- English
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- 4,411
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75183431
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You're where I wanna be, my darling, can't you see? by mickeysmyheart
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-02
Shane’s so cute when he’s upset and all Ilya can do is tease him some more. He loves to tease him, he’s so easy to rile up. “Admit it, you missed me,” he teases more, grabbing at his soft blue hoodie. “I fucking didn’t,” Shane says, annoyed but he knows Shane did miss him, because Ilya really missed him. OR Ilya fucks Shane's tits during their first time together
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- English
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- 1,713
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75101361
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trace me onto your skin by keifteef
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-02
Shane Hollander has been keeping his identity a secret for his entire hockey career. How could he be so irresponsible as to lose his suppressants?
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- English
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- 9,364
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- 1/1
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75114511
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the kitchen sink sundae by luvzosanxo
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-11-30
he could feel his face heating up and turning red before he opened his mouth because he was growing impatient with this teasing and taunting bullshit that could wait until they leave this kitchen. "okay, please do something — anything , please." "you want me to fuck you in the kitchen?" "iIya, please — fuck me or so god help me I'll kick you out for the- holy shit." or hollanov the fic where after the team wins a game and iIya comes back home to a pleasant surprise from his husband shane.
- Language:
- English
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- 5,271
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75034936
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“I think, at this point, we are friends, no?” Ilya asks, his back still to Shane. “Are we?” Shane asks, and Ilya’s lip quirks at the way he can hear the curiosity bleed through Shane’s tone, despite the way he’s clearly trying so hard to sound indifferent. “I consider you a friend, yes. We had food together. Hung out,” he explains. “Okay. Sure, yeah,” Shane agrees, meeting Ilya’s eyes as he turns around to face him. “Friends.” “Good. It is important you know this,” Ilya asks, stepping across the slightly echoey room, his hand going to tilt Shane’s jaw up. “It’s important for you to know I like you,” he says, watching with amusement as more confusion spreads across Shane’s pretty face. “Why?” “Because,” Ilya says softly, condescendingly as he leans down, his mouth close to Shane’s. Shane is so receptive to him, his lips already parting, expecting a kiss. “I am going to fuck you like I hate you,” he finishes, watching as Shane’s jaw drops a little, his breath hitching.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,088
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75031386