361 – 380 of 553 Works in Top Ilya Rozanov
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“Touch me,” he pants, “please, Ilya. Touch me.” “Where?” He broods, resting his chin on Shane’s knee, waiting. The view is magnificent. There’s no other way he’d want to start the new year. “You know where, Ilya, please.” “Where, baby?” “My pussy,” he gasps, flushed pink. Ilya groans, “So wet, baby. Good girl. How do you want it?” “Ilya!” He smiles, “Tell me how you touched your other girls.” “Not now, Ilya.” “Tell me." He demands, "What do you girls like? How should I play with your pussy?" or, It’s New Year’s Eve and Shane has something to share.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,243
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77083196
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Shane gets drunk after his second Stanley Cup win. Piecing together the night before (a park, a club, and a tattoo shop) is very difficult for him to do. Ilya helps him remember. (In which: Shane gets Ilya's number tattooed on him.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,142
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77123891
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Shane and Ilya's wedding had been perfect. Maybe not in the literal sense, much to Shane's chagrin, but despite the forgotten first dance song and the constant happy tears welling up between them, neither would change the day for a thing. On a purely selfish note, though- Ilya wishes they'd kept more of the cake to themselves. / (Or, Ilya and Shane's vanilla wedding cake gets shared during some very not vanilla sex.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,156
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77122026
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Before ascending the throne, omega Shane Hollander must choose his bethroted, the one with whom he is destined to spend all his springs, but who will also be the father of his children, the one who must leave a mark on his neck. Therefore, it is not a decision to be taken lightly.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 66,197
- Chapters:
- 5/5
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #75299001
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“Shane,” Ilya whispers. “Yes?” “What is wrong?” “Nothing,” Shane says. “It’s great.” “Hollander. You look like you will throw up or cry into fire. Both will ruin mood.” --- Shane and Ilya have to leave the cottage eventually. Shane spirals about it. Ilya makes it better. Shane is trying very much to enjoy his last evening with Ilya at the cottage. He is trying so much that he feels queasy. All he can think about as Ilya strokes his back and kisses his hair while they sit by the fire, is less than fourteen hours now. Thirteen and a half. Thirteen and a quarter. He can’t bear thinking of Ilya leaving, but he also can’t not think about it for even a second. “Shane,” Ilya whispers. “Yes?” “What is wrong?” “Nothing,” Shane says. “It’s great.” “Hollander. You look like you will throw up or cry into fire. Both will ruin mood.” And Shane definitely can’t tell Ilya what’s actually wrong because then he won’t just have ruined what’s left of the mood, he’ll have completely destroyed it, and then Shane fucking up will cast a shadow over their entire time here and Ilya will always think that it wasn’t actually that good and maybe he won’t want to come back, ever, and - “Shane. You said to say what we really feel while we are here. Say what you need.” “Fuck me,” Shane says. “Make me stop thinking about tomorrow.” Ilya kisses him, softly. “Okay,” he says. “Would you like it if I take these dishes inside and clean up and you go to bed and get yourself ready for me?” A gasp escapes Shane’s mouth, he can’t help it. The thought of lying in his bed, opening himself up while Ilya is loading the dishwasher down the hall, has him half-hard already. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Ilya grins, and kisses him again. “Get started. I will see you in few minutes.” Only once he’s naked and fucking himself open with two fingers does Shane realise that he left the bedroom door wide open. It wasn’t on purpose, not really, except somehow it was. He can hear the clinks of cutlery and plates, the sliding of the dishwasher racks. He closes his eyes and pictures Ilya moving around the kitchen, unhurried, sure that Shane will be ready exactly when Ilya will want him. Shane still can hardly believe that Ilya is here, much less how settled he seems. But he won’t be settled here any more in thirteen hours. Shane forces his thoughts back to the present. Ilya will be with him soon. Shane wants to be ready, wants Ilya to be proud of him. Ilya will make him forget all about tomorrow. Just the anticipation is driving Shane wild. He wraps his free hand around his cock, stroking himself a couple of times, just to take the edge off a little. It doesn’t work, and he ends up moaning more loudly than he intended. He hears Ilya laugh from across the hallway. “Hollander, slow down. I still have to soak pans!” “Asshole,” Shane shouts. He opens his eyes again to glare at the open door. “Fucking hurry!” “No,” Ilya calls back to him. “Have to be thorough. Otherwise will be nightmare to clean. You like everything very clean, no?” Shane groans, half in frustration, half in arousal. But he can’t tell Ilya not to soak the pans. They can’t just leave them out on the counter all night without soaking them. That would be crazy. “Maybe I stay in kitchen for a while,” Ilya sing-songs. “Make cup of tea. Ah, here is camomile. Very healthy. You want tea?” “Fuck you, Rozanov!” Ilya laughs again. “So impatient, Hollander. I told you, slow down.” Shane curses some more but obeys, stops working himself open and just brushes his fingers over the most sensitive spots, sighing and enjoying the sensation, little sparks up his spine. And soon Ilya will be here. Soon Ilya will take Shane out of his head, and maybe they’ll say I love you again. Maybe Ilya will say it in Russian again, too. Ya tebya lyublyu. Shane looked it up the other day. He plans to practise saying it until he thinks it sounds okay, as close to Ilya’s pronunciation as he can manage. Then he’ll say it back to Ilya, so Ilya can hear that Shane loves him in his own language. He loses himself a little, floating for a couple of minutes, maybe longer. Eventually, he hears Ilya’s steps and comes out of it, starting to panic. He’s not ready yet. He got too distracted, too calm, enjoyed himself too much, stopped focusing on the objective. He was meant to get himself ready for Ilya to be able to fuck him straight away, and now he isn’t. Ilya looks stunning stepping into the room, framed by the light shining in through the doorway behind him. He’s already lost most of his clothes in the hallway by the look of things. He kneels on the bed, hungrily raking his eyes over Shane. “Sorry,” Shane whispers. “I was too slow, I’m not quite there yet -” “Hollander,” Ilya says firmly. “Is no hurry. I told you to slow down. You slowed down. You are perfect. Always, always good for me.” Shane has no idea why the words hit like they do, but fuck do they ever. He starts up properly again, arching his spine, pushing back against his own fingers. “Fucking gorgeous,” Ilya murmurs.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,200
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77166276
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matter of fact, i caught you lookin' back by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-05
“No,” he says, smiling gently, like he doesn't know how irritating he's being. “Is my room first, da? You should speak with front desk.”
Hollander stares at him.
And then he starts to laugh.
“You ask the front desk,” he shoots back, in between his odd wheezes. Ilya's heart starts to pound in double time, because this is not—this cannot be Shane Hollander playing bed chicken with him. Their competitiveness is fierce, to be certain, but surely, Hollander would be the bigger person, no? “This is my fucking room, Rozanov. Wild horses couldn't drag me away.”
OR: Ilya's apartment is under construction. Shane's in town for a game. It'd be a shame if they somehow had the same hotel room.
[or, or: we need some more goddamn 'there was only one bed' out here.]
- Part 9 of heated rivalry masterlist
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 19,326
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76941361
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"A game?" said Shane blankly. Ilya waved his arms around as if to communicate through hand gestures. "You know, a sex game. Where we pretend to do something in a sexy way." "You have a... fantasy? Like, you want to act out a scenario?" Shane said hesitantly. Ilya snapped his fingers. "Yes. I have a fantasy." "What's your, um. Fantasy?" Even asking, Shane felt a hot blush rising up his cheeks. Ilya leaned forwards so that his lips were to Shane's ear. "I want you... to be a fan." Shane shuddered at Ilya's breath ghosting across his skin. "A fan?" "Yes, a fan. My biggest fan. And you ask me for an autograph." Or: Shane loses a bet, and Ilya wants Shane to pretend to be his biggest fan. Set Pre-Tuna Melt
- Part 1 of Can I Get a Sign, Please?
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,150
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77084506
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crying in my head again (and i know that it's not clear) by deadpoetry_s
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-04
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be in Ilya’s proximity—not at all—but rather the opposite. Shane wanted Ilya to take him apart, to hold and caress and touch him—but for Ilya, it appeared to differ. After the awards, after their time spent in his hotel room, it seemed Ilya wanted nothing more than space, kicking him out at the earliest possible opportunity. 'We didn’t even kiss.' The message sat typed out, but not deleted, in their chat, taunting him with the truth of what had happened that night. Ilya hadn’t kissed him, and that affected Shane. It affected him in ways he couldn’t begin to imagine, the constant thought of Ilya, Ilya, Ilya running Olympian laps in his mind. Clearly their… whatever they were, was affecting Shane more than Ilya, and that was an issue. The one person he longed for—when had he started longing for Ilya?— didn’t want him back, and it hurt. Okay, maybe Shane was overreacting, but still. It was going to be a difficult 24 hours, what with his sudden illness and combined heartache. OR After Las Vegas, Shane Hollander falls into subdrop. Ilya is there to pick him back up.
- Language:
- English
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- 1,731
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77035491
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lovers in the bathroom (and a line outside the door) by Rebelskyguy (rebelskyguy)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
Shane looks up from where he’d been dissociating, staring at the design of the wood in the bar top. He’s face to face with the bartender, a shockingly tall, curly haired blond man. He’s wearing a sleek black button-up buttoned halfway, exposing his chest and a chain that Shane could just imagine dangling in his face. He raises his eyebrows, as if waiting for him to respond– Shane has to do a double take to make sure that he’s even talking to him at all. “Me?” Shane points to himself. The blond turns to look at the rest of the bar. “Is no one else here but you. So…” Or Shane meets a handsome bartender after being stood up on a date. Bathroom shenanigans ensue.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,386
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77042781
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Let's Test That Theory by AramintaDarrendya
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
Takes place after the end Heated Rivalry before Long Game. Ilya has moved to Ottawa and the hockey season is starting. He tells Shane if he wants to experiment sexually while they are traveling for work, he would not be jealous. Shane knows Ilya well enough that this is a ridiculous idea. Shane tests Ilya and ends up getting exactly what he wants, punishment in the bedroom.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,183
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77045701
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Lily: Oh so you’re drinker now? Jane: I do drink, just not often. Lily: and why have I not seen before? Jane: Like I said, not often. Lily: You still come over tonight, I already decided what I the plan was and I do not change plans. Lily: Text me when you get in uber. Shane goes out for drinks with the team, and Ilya can’t wait to see what drunk Shane entails.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,261
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77052481
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how many hockey players does it take to make a meal? by forever_er
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
Hayden kisses Jackie on the cheek, then peers over Shane’s shoulder at the batter. “Is it supposed to be that lumpy, man?” He asks it so innocently, like maybe it is supposed to be lumpy. Like maybe he just doesn’t know what batter is supposed to look like. Shane supposes he probably doesn’t. He’s never seen Hayden make anything more complicated than a protein shake. Shane hangs his head. “No.” Hayden laughs, Jackie laughs, and the kids clamber all over him to get a peek at the lumpy mixture. “That looks yucky,” Ruby observes with an air of wisdom from where she has managed to climb onto Shane’s back. “I don’t want to eat that,” her twin agrees from her mirrored position on Hayden. Jackie looks at Shane pityingly. “Shane, sweetie, I’m sure Ilya will be happy with anything you plan for him. Does it have to be a meal?” Shane glowers. “Yes.” --- Or, the one where Shane Hollander gets it in his head that he has to make a traditional Russian dish for Ilya as a grand romantic gesture
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,178
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77052531
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“Bless me, Father,” Shane said, voice steady out of habit. “For I have sinned.” Ilya Rozanov is an eighteen-year-old who was sent to a Catholic all-boys boarding school by his dad to straighten his messy behavior, where he meets the religious boy who knows nothing but to repent to his sins at least once or thrice a week. Shane Hollander believed that praying every night and putting God first is what matters over everything, and boys who are like Ilya are resented by the nuns and the church. In a place built to mold boys into men of God, some sins are harder to confess.
- Language:
- English
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- 26,297
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77063401
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Ilya was used to it, a lot of women find it attractive and sexy when he speaks Russian– it might be one of the reasons why they would hook-up with him. Though, he would never expect Shane to like it too. Ilya had a hunch, but he did not pay attention to it. He thinks it was just Shane being curious or being attracted to Ilya, but the patterns were getting too hard to ignore. It was subtle, very subtle. Not obvious enough for everyone in the room to notice it, but then no one is watching or observing Shane like he does, perhaps that is one of the reasons why he was the only one who noticed it. When Ilya was too tired, too annoyed, too worried, or too angry to translate whatever was on his mind into English, he just let his thoughts to exist as they were. It was easier for him anyway, even after years of living outside Canada, he still can't express himself fully without slipping a Russian word or two. Ilya thought everything was normal, Shane doesn’t mind when Ilya suddenly speaks in Russian mid conversation, but then he started to noticed it lately. Every time a Russian slipped out of him in moments he wasn’t watching himself, Shane would react every time.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,747
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77071751
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hold me without hurting me (you'll be the first who ever did) by mightyd0lphin
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
Jane (21:23): Come over? Ilya stared at the message. Rage swirled in his stomach - that Shane would run out on him like that, spend the next two months shoving his fucking girlfriend in Ilya’s face, and then text him like none of that had happened. Like none of it mattered. Mixed in with the anger, though, and threatening to overwhelm it, was the hot burn of shame. Because Ilya was already texting back okay and putting on his shoes. Because he was fucking pathetic, and couldn’t resist. ~ instead of going to the club during episode 4, shane goes back to his apartment. then he texts ilya.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,862
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77079381
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Ilya and Shane play together in the All Stars Game - then they have sex. AKA I understand why Jacob didn't want sex in Episode 5 but I did, so it's here. Yay! Takes place after the game but before all of the confessions. Don't worry too much about the logistics. Ilya has imagined this, of course. It’s something he won’t ever admit to Shane, but he’s thought of it over and over again. The two of them, playing together. What it would be like, how it might work. He knows what they’re like when they fuck - a wordless knowledge of each other that requires very little in the way of conversation, though neither of them are ever inclined to be quiet. Hockey is different to fucking, but not by much. Ilya knows how Shane plays, down to the skates he wears and how tight he keeps his helmet. But there’s no knowing until they’re on the ice together - and from the moment the puck drops it’s euphoric, all of it. The rest of the team might as well not be there for all that Ilya gives a shit. His attention is on Shane, on getting the puck to his stick, on taking it back when Shane needs it, on getting them to the goal again and again and again. The score is ridiculous, even for a game that is more fun than it is anything else. Ilya spreads his affection across the team, aware of how it would look if he kept coming back to Shane, but he knows how the headlines will look, what all the hockey podcasts will be talking about. The two of them, Hollander and Rozanov and the electricity between them on the ice. No team could ever afford to have them both, and Ilya knows it would be a bad idea, but it’s worth fantasising about, isn’t it? It’s in that post game haze that Ilya is more rash than he has any right to be and books a hotel. One a little further out, but with a big bed and good room service. He texts the name and the room number to Shane without any other details, and watches his eyebrows raise across the massive dinner table where their team has gathered for a post-game celebration. He aches with anticipation, the thrill of the game still sitting under his skin, and he’s one of the first to leave, much to the apparent surprise of the players who don’t know him, and the knowing grins of those who do. “Fuck, Rozy, you got a girl lined up already?” “No fucking way man, we’ve been here less than two days!” “Nah, that motherfucker has one in every city I swear -” Ilya doesn’t answer any of it, just grins, shows the table his favourite finger, and makes his way out. He doesn’t look at Shane, doesn’t try to see if he’s following. He will, of course he will. He always does. So Ilya gets a taxi and checks in to the hotel, makes his way up to the room. It’s a nice room, good view - Ilya doesn’t give a shit about any of that. He pulls off his jacket, slinging it onto the chair that reminds Ilya of another night and another fuck in a much fancier hotel room, and he waits. It’s less than half an hour before the knock comes, and Ilya pulls the door open, meaning to pull Shane in after him. But Shane, it seems, is just as eager. The door’s barely closed before they’re on each other, kissing with a level of desperation that they haven’t in a long time. Ilya manages to get his hand up to protect Shane’s head as they hit the wall, and that gives him the perfect leverage to twist his fingers into the dark strands, pull Shane’s face back a little. He already looks fucked out, his lips parted and his face flushed, those fucking freckles looking perfect on his cheeks. “Fuck, Shane, look at you,” there’s still a thrill that comes with using Shane’s first name, and if the way Shane shudders is any indication, he feels it too. “You felt on the ice, yes? Never played with someone that fucking good before, hm?” “Shut the fuck up,” Shane pushes forwards to kiss Ilya again, and then they’re fumbling to get at each other’s belts, kicking out of their clothes in a frenzied stumble towards the bed. Shane falls onto his back and Ilya crawls over him, feeling like a predator. He wants to devour Shane, wants to taste him and crawl inside his bones, wants to know what it feels like in there. For now, he pulls one of Shane’s legs up until it’s practically on Ilya’s shoulder and fists his cock, rough and demanding. Shane lets out a strangled noise, trying to fuck into Ilya’s fist and arch away all at once, and Ilya grins, animalistic. “Be good boy, Hollander, and maybe I fuck you,” they both know that’s where this is going, but that’s not the point. Shane forces his eyes open and Ilya is watching him, still working at his cock. He doesn’t keep it up long, not after Shane says, “Please, please want to come with you -” in this breathy voice that Ilya can’t say no to. He fumbles away for a moment, coming back with the lube that was in his pocket (“You had that with you during dinner?”) and starts in on prepping Shane. He’s always so vocal, like this, whimpering at the push and pull of Ilya’s fingers - one, then two, then a third because he’s feeling generous about it. By the time Ilya’s got a condom on and he’s rolling his hips to push in to Shane, he feels halfway out of his mind. It’s so much, so overwhelming, that for a long moment he just stays there, flush against Shane, holding him up off the bed. Then Shane looks at him, eyes wet and wanting, and Ilya loses all sense of self. The headboard makes contact with the wall and Ilya couldn’t give less of a fuck, driving into Shane like a man possessed, slapping Shane’s hand away from his own dick. No, he wants Shane to come just like this, on his cock, panting and needy with it. He wants to drink up those noises, the ah-ah-ah that comes rhythmically with Ilya’s thrusts. And he can feel it, in the bottom of his stomach, the desperate curl of it. Ilya wishes they were fucking raw, wishes he could feel all of Shane. For now, he settles with leaning over the bed. The pressure forces Shane to bend, and suddenly Ilya is impossibly deep. Shane all but screams Ilya’s name, head thrown back, and his cock jerks, coating his stomach, almost up to his chest. Ilya is mesmerised by the sight of it, and doesn’t last more than two thrusts before he’s shaking, coming as deep as he can, imagining for a moment that when he pulls out he’ll see the evidence of it leaking out of Shane’s hole. He doesn’t, of course. He pulls back, almost trembling, and there’s nothing but the slick of lube. Ilya ties off the condom, tosses it towards the trash. Means to go and get a washcloth, but – but it’s all there, painted over Shane’s body, and Ilya feels greedy. He leans over Shane’s body, ignoring his quiet, fucked out little, “Ilya -” as he drags his tongue up Shane’s stomach, tasting him there.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,542
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77036521
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Since Shane’s Calvin Klein campaign dropped, it somehow escaped the hockey bubble entirely and spilled into the general public. There are countless TikToks now—not even from hockey fans, just regular people—posting about his husband in tight white briefs that leave very little to the imagination. Every sports show seems obligated to mention Shane Hollander’s Calvin Klein campaign. It’s inescapable in a way neither of them had expected. At first, Ilya thought it was fun. He was glad the world finally saw his husband as the sexy, talented man he’d always known him to be. He liked interacting with fan posts and edits, even sending them to Shane just to watch the way his face would immediately redden. But now, the public reaction is a little… much. or; Shane’s Calvin Klein campaign goes viral, not only in the hockey sphere, but all over the internet. Ilya tries (and fails) to not show his jealousy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,018
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76684136
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last name (first name) by londonfoglatte (nimbus2003)
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-04
part 1: five times they're forced to be Hollander and Rozanov -- and one time they get to be Shane and Ilya. OR it took thirteen years to get to this table. to earn the right to be Shane and Ilya. it was worth every damned second. part 2: five times they choose to be Hollander and Rozanov -- and one time they choose to be Shane and Ilya. OR after years of hiding, it's a joy to wake up with a choice.
- Part 4 of hollanov 5+1
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,893
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76250206
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Ilya’s cigarettes have always been easier than love...but Shane tastes too good to keep smoking. It isn't easy to quit smoking, Ilya knows that. He's tried, multiple times without success. Something Shane has quietly, stubbornly hated since their rookie year. An off-season at Shane’s cottage forces Ilya to confront the habit he’s clung to for comfort, the one that could keep him from fully being with the man he loves.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,186
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76968436
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What do you get the man who self-proclaimedly has everything he could ever want and need? This is the dilemma Shane faces yet again, wondering what on earth he could possibly get Ilya for his birthday. The answer comes in the form of raiding Ilya’s closet and impulsive 3 AM purchases. or the hollanov birthday sex au no one asked for
- Part 2 of vignettes in time
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,111
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76853676