381 – 400 of 553 Works in Top Ilya Rozanov
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Babe for the Weekend - Hollanov by Wellington28
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-03
Ilya was going to murder him. He should have just corrected Scott. Should have said, "No, that's my best friend, we grew up together." Simple. But instead he'd agreed to bring his nonexistent boyfriend on the trip like an idiot. How was he going to talk Ilya into this? -or- The one where Shane accidentally lets his coworkers assume Ilya is his boyfriend and instead of telling them the truth, he convinces Ilya to play along for the weekend.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 52,101
- Chapters:
- 8/8
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76974601
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my mouth hasn't shut up about you since you kissed it by amarastein
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-03
Ilya quickly put two fingers in his mouth to shut him up, but Shane moaned even louder at the action. Unbeknownst to them, poor, young Luca Haas had stumbled out of the bathroom near them and almost yelped when he turned in their direction. Their teammates laughed at him all the way to the bar when he tried to recount what had him looking like a ghost. So here Shane was: delirious, hard, and pleasantly sucking Ilya’s fingers pumping in and out of his mouth against a club wall. 5 times Shane’s oral fixation gets him and Ilya in trouble +1 time it’s just for them. (Inspired by Husdon Williams’ explicit support for Shane’s oral fixation.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,638
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76974946
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I Follow You, Even Into Your Dreams by Buyurei
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-03
Shane’s body seems to sway, and his dick finds friction against Ilya’s body. Then, what Ilya can only describe as a miracle. Shane exhales, and speaks in his sleep. “Suhz, uhz… Anov…” Shane inhales deeply, and says “Ozanov… Nnng…” on the exhale. He whines through it. Ilya freezes. He can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. Shane says Ilya’s name in his sleep. Ilya can't resist.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,102
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76926206
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shane goes into heat in the middle of a game
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,175
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76979301
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5 times Ilya was rough with Shane, and 1 time he was so gentle, Shane didn’t know what to do with it.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,775
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76982911
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Ilya’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you hurt?” He asked, halfway across the kitchen already. Shane shook his head, getting up and away from Ilya before he could touch him. “I’m fine, just overstretched yesterday.” It was a big fat lie, and both of them knew it. Ilya, obviously, caught on to it. “You don’t overstretch.” He was following Shane to the fridge. The panic inside of Shane rose until his whole body felt like a live wire. New tactic. Think. Think. Think… “It was a new yoga position,” he blurted out. He knew how much Ilya liked to watch him do yoga, that would most likely distract him enough for Shane to leave. He had a plan, damn it. OR Shane gets a tattoo and doesn't want to show Ilya (yet).
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,394
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76997416
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On His Knees In Vegas by hunnybunny
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-03
“I need—“ Shane cut himself off, trying to will himself to be brave and failing miserably. He had never been good at this part, asking for what he wanted when it came to the bedroom. And part of him didn’t want to have to ask. He wanted to be told what to do, and that was part of what made Ilya so appealing. “What?”, Ilya asked, raising a single eyebrow. “You know,” Shane gasped back, clenching his fist at the base of his dick. “Tell me,” Ilya replied, his tone leaving no room for an argument. It was a command, and the heat of it was burning inside Shane. Ilya wants Shane to ask. He wants him to beg. And when Shane doesn't, Ilya puts him on his knees. Or an incredibly self-indulgent smutty one-shot where Ilya's dominant streak shines, and Shane tries to grapple with why he loves taking orders.
- Part 1 of On His Knees
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,089
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77016401
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“Mmnnh, no, come back. This is big deal. First time Shane Hollander has ever thrown punches. First time Shane Hollander has been punched. Everyone is talking about it.” “I punched Peterson because he slammed you.” It should have been satisfying watching the way shock immediately blushed over Ilya’s face, but all Shane could feel was embarrassment for even admitting it. “He was… I mean… He was all over you. And it– I don’t know, I was just so angry that he was touching you that I— I don’t know. I just saw red and, I don’t even remember all of it.” Shane felt like he was losing himself. He knew he was more emotional these past few weeks, a swirling mess of feelings and breaking his diet and lazying around more, but he had chalked most of it up to Ilya’s influence. or, Shane Hollander is pregnant, and doesn't know it yet, and is increasingly confused why he's feeling so crazy lately. Acting so strange. Crying so much. So horny.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,825
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77033616
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Shane thought the neck guard was a brilliant idea. Ilya thought marking Shane from neck to hip was a brilliant idea. The Ottawa Centaurs locker room has other opinions. or Shane and Ilyas secret get exposed because they are horny fucks who can’t control themselves
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,846
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76949426
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Shane has always known he didn't navigate the world like other people, but he'd always told himself it didn't matter. He got by, so it was fine. But the night after his parents came to the cottage for dinner with him and Ilya, Ilya took Shane apart in a way that shifts everything. He can't stop thinking about it, especially the petname Ilya started using that night. -- Or: Shane Hollander is undiagnosed autistic, and he and Ilya are figuring out how to navigate that even without knowing what it is.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,182
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76909341
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High At The Cottage by K_booklover98
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-02
Ilya brings weed to the cottage one summer, gets Shane really high and they have stoned, sweet, lazy, and indulgent sex
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,882
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76903946
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I think I might be gay by Lupin71
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-02
Shane Hollander liked things a certain way. He needed them to be just right. This could be a blessing at times, making him a better hockey player, but then it also made having friends difficult. He never seemed to be able to scare off Ilya Rozanov though. No, Rozanov didn’t scare easily. - - - This is a story about Shane being autistic, gay, and falling in love when he really shouldn’t have.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,962
- Chapters:
- 4/4
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76498391
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i keep closing my eyes, but i can't block you out by alpinelakegirl
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-02
A rewrite of episode four and what happens afterward. “Well yeah,” Shane said, his voice took the slightly bratty tone that Rozanov loves. “You keep your house cold as shit.” This made Rozanov burst out laughing. He went towards his dresser to pull out a hoodie. He pauses as he sees Shane’s perfectly folded outfit settle neatly on the wood. He lets a small smile cross his lips within the privacy his back has provided from Shane. Like in every piece of clothing Rozanov has ever had the luxury of peeling off of Shane’s body a neat S.H. was written on the label of Shane’s jacket. He was about to toss an old CCM sweatshirt to Shane when a different one caught his eye. The team had got them this year, they were black with the Boston Bear’s logo in yellow. The hoodie was branded with Rozanov’s number and last name on it. The thought of Hollander, Montreal’s and the NHL’s golden boy, wearing his name did something to him. I guess he didn’t care that Shane was a hockey god, the only thing he cared about was the fact that in a few moments he was going to see Shane wearing his last name. Something he couldn’t let himself dream of.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 62,984
- Chapters:
- 12/12
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75676731
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cigarettes out the window by phandotnet
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-02
Ilya took a long drag. The tip of his cigarette glowed red in the darkness and it stirred something in Shane's belly. A Pavlovian response, maybe, since Ilya was so fond of smoking and Shane was so fond of him. No, no---it was definitely the cigarette. His lips held it so gently, not dissimilar from the way he would kiss down Shane's stomach or against his earlobe. On the inhale, his face was tight, focused, and his chest puffed out. He kept his lips parted with a mouth of smoke, holding it until he was ready to breathe out. When he tried to talk with smoke in his mouth, he always sounded breathless, choked, strained---like when he was trying to stop himself from coming too fast. On the exhale, the thick smoke danced beautifully against his features, even more so in the dimly lit room. Shane found himself holding his breath until the smoke had left Ilya's mouth. This was dizzying. "Something on my face, Hollander?"
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,035
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76918636
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A strong arm caught him easily, guiding him back against the shelves. The force was inhuman but controlled and gentle. The vampire leaned in, close enough that Shane could feel the chill radiating from him. “I did not come here to frighten you,” he said softly, forehead nearly brushing Shane’s. “I came to ask you on a date.” The library had settled into its late-hour stillness. Most of the overhead lights had been extinguished, leaving only a handful of brass-shaded lamps burning overhead, their yellow glow casting long shadows across the reading tables and towering shelves. Dust hung faintly in the air, visible when Shane shifted beneath the light. The place smelled of old paper, leather bindings, and furniture polish. Shane sat alone at one of the long oak tables, collar loosened, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He scratched absently at the back of his neck as his eyes dragged over the same line of text for what felt like the hundredth time. The words refused to stick. His head throbbed faintly, and the wire frames of his spectacles pinched at his temples. The clock mounted high on the wall ticked loudly in the quiet. He let out a muted groan and dropped his forehead against the tabletop, careful not to knock his books over. “Now then,” came a voice from the aisle, firm but not unkind. “You know better than that, young man. No sleeping in the reading room.” Shane lifted his head and found the librarian approaching, a stern woman in sensible shoes pushing a cart stacked neatly with returned volumes. Her hair was pinned tight at the nape of her neck, her eyes sharp behind round lenses. “Sorry, ma’am,” Shane murmured, rubbing his face with both hands. There was no arguing it. He snapped his book shut, slid it into his satchel along with his notes, and cinched the strap tight. His studies could wait until morning. Tonight, his mind was finished. He shrugged into his dusty brown leather jacket, smoothing it down out of habit, then slung the satchel over his shoulder and made his way toward the heavy front doors. Outside, the cold greeted him sharply. Winter had settled in earnest, the air biting and dry as it rushed over his face. His nose stung immediately, cheeks flushing red as he exhaled into his cupped hands. The street was quiet, save for the distant hum of an automobile somewhere far off. He lingered beneath the stone archway, shifting on his feet to keep warm, before stepping out onto the path. A cloud of smoke drifted across his vision. He coughed softly and turned his head, squinting into the gloom. For a moment, he thought it was just shadow pooled against the building. Then he saw the ember. A bright orange glow flared briefly, illuminating a cigarette between pale fingers. Shane blinked and did a double take, turning fully now as the rest of the figure resolved itself under the lamplight. The man stood half-hidden near the wall, tall and broad-shouldered, coat collar turned up against the cold. Curly, light-colored hair fell loosely across his forehead. Even in the dim light, his skin appeared unnaturally pale. Shane felt suddenly aware of himself. Of the emptiness of the street. Of the late hour. The man was…handsome. A shiver ran down Shane’s spine. He gestured awkwardly toward the cigarette. “I don’t think you’re meant to smoke here,” he said, voice hesitant despite knowing full well he was right. “Oh?” The reply was smooth, accented, foreign in a way that made Shane’s shoulders tense. “There’s a notice,” Shane added, pointing toward the sign affixed near the entrance. He nodded once, lips pressed thin, and quickly walked off without waiting for a response. The following night arrived without ceremony. Shane found himself once again leaving the library late, satchel heavier this time with completed work. The path ahead was lit by tall streetlamps, their bulbs flickering softly as he walked beneath them. The cold crept through his coat, sharp and persistent. But it wasn’t the cold that made him uneasy. It was the feeling. That unmistakable prickle along his spine, the sense of being watched. Of footsteps that weren’t quite there. He told himself it was foolish, just nerves and imagination, but he didn’t turn around. Then a voice spoke from behind him. “Are you going to ignore me forever?" The words were smooth, carrying a thick Russian drawl that slid down his spine like ice. The sound of it echoed faintly in the open street. Shane yelped, nearly jumping out of his skin as he spun around, bag slipping off his shoulder. “What the fuck—?!” he shouted.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,944
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76932081
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I could be the one, or your new addiction it’s all in my head but I want non-fiction Ilya said Shane was bad at sexting. Shane, never one to back down from a challenge, decides to prove him wrong.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,260
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76951271
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Surrender, take my crucifix by DaughterofLegends
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-01-02
Prince Ilya of the Rozanov Empire and Shane Hollander, son of the First Minister of the Council of Vampire Hunters, have been playing a dangerous game ever since stumbling upon each other at an abandoned citadel bordering their lands several years ago. And maybe while the first few attempts to kill each other, as expected by their respective nations, were real, now . . . it looks less like attempts on each other's lives and a lot more like foreplay to earn Shane's submission. -- Sacrilegious and Kinky Vampire/Vampire Hunter AU (no spoilers) Happy ending!
- Part 1 of Fighting Puritanism, one smutty Hollanov AU at a time
- Part 1 of weep for the damned, for their love is sweet upon the tongue
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,112
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76959646
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Shane hires a sex worker to figure out if he likes men. Spoiler: He is not only gay, but he also falls in love with the sex worker.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,881
- Chapters:
- 7/7
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76898651
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Feels So Good When You're In It (My Heart's On Fire) by Chaoticity
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-02
This is exactly what Ilya needed. He couldn’t help himself, really. His boyfriend’s lithe, soft body was so malleable in his hands. The feeling of control surged through his core, but at the same time, a spark of something blinding white and beautiful raced through him even faster: reverence. OR: a somno Hollanov fic (everyone cheered)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,056
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76911086
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“Il—y-ah!” Ilya let out a soft chuckle. “I know,” Ilya breathed. “Come for me, Hollander. Be a good boy and come.” Shane’s eyes rolled back at the words, lashes fluttering. His entire body went rigid for a moment—then his orgasm hit like a fucking tidal wave. The suite was dark except for the faint glow of the city through the half-drawn curtains. They’d been at it for hours—at least that’s what Shane thinks, he couldn’t tell at this point. It began as slow, deliberate teasing that had started in the shower after the game and eventually migrated to the king-sized bed. Ilya had taken his time, working Shane open with his fingers and tongue until Shane was a begging, writhing mess. He’d already come three times—once on Ilya’s tongue, once riding three of Ilya’s fingers, and once just from Ilya stroking him slow and merciless while whispering filthy praise in his ear. Each orgasm had left Shane more sensitive, more undone, until he was trembling all over, skin flushed hot, cock half-hard again and leaking like a faucet, despite how spent he felt. Now Shane was on his back in the middle of the bed, legs spread wide, knees bent and hooked over Ilya’s hips. Sweat cooled on his chest; his hair stuck to his forehead. He was breathing fast, little hitched breaths, eyes glassy and fixed on Ilya like he was both terrified and desperate for what came next. Ilya knelt between his thighs, stroking himself slowly, slick with lube and Shane’s earlier release. He leaned down, braced one hand beside Shane’s head, and brushed a thumb across Shane’s wet lower lip. “You sure?” Ilya asked, voice low and rough, but gentle. “You’re already shaking, malysh. We can stop.” Shane shook his head immediately, eyes going wide and even more glassy as if he were about to cry, which, he probably was. “No—no, please. Want you inside me. Need it.” He whined with the most adorable pout playing on his bottom lip. Ilya’s jaw flexed. He could see how close to the edge Shane already was—how every touch made him flinch and gasp, how his thighs trembled against Ilya’s sides. But the plea in Shane’s voice was unmistakable. “Okay,” Ilya murmured. He lined himself up carefully, nudging just the head in. “Breathe for me. Slow.” Shane tried. He really did. But the second Ilya started pushing in—slow, relentless pressure— Shane’s whole body jerked. A broken whine tore out of him, high and overwhelmed. His hands flew to Ilya’s shoulders, nails digging in hard. “Fuck—” “I know,” Ilya soothed, stopping halfway, letting Shane adjust. “I know it’s a lot. You’re doing so good for me.. Just breathe.” Shane’s legs shook harder, heels digging into the mattress. Tears slipped down his temples into his hair. He squirmed, hips twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to push down or pull away. “Ilya—” “Shh. Look at me.” Ilya waited until Shane’s watery eyes met his. “If you need to stop, just tell me, Shane. You’re doing so good.” Shane nodded frantically, another tear falling. “Want it. Please move.” Ilya did—slow, careful thrusts at first, sinking deeper inch by inch until he was fully seated. Shane’s back arched off the bed instantly, mouth open on a silent cry. His whole body trembled violently, thighs clamping around Ilya’s hips. “Fuck—fuck—Ilya—” “There you go,” Ilya whispered, starting a gentle rhythm. “Such a good boy..” Shane whined so loud at that Ilya thought he was going to have to put his hand over his mouth. Every drag of Ilya’s cock over his oversensitive prostate made Shane sob dryly. He couldn’t stop moving—hips rolling, back bowing, hands scrabbling at Ilya’s back like he was trying to anchor himself. Tears streamed freely now, not from pain but from pure overload. “OhmyfuckingGod,” Shane choked out all in one breath, voice cracking. “Can’t—Ilya—“ “You can,” Ilya said firmly, keeping his pace steady, deep but not fast. He leaned down closer, forehead pressed to Shane’s. “Sound so good for me, дорогой. Such a good boy for me..” “Nnngh..” Was the only response Shane could give as his cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink as drool slipped out of the corner of his mouth. Shane’s legs wrapped tighter around Ilya’s waist, heels digging into the small of his back as if trying to pull him deeper even while his body tried to squirm away from the intensity. His cock—hard as can be with the head being dark red and wet—leaked steadily against his stomach, untouched. “Il—y-ah!” Ilya let out a soft chuckle. “I know,” Ilya breathed. “Come for me, Hollander. Be a good boy and come.” Shane’s eyes rolled back at the words, lashes fluttering. His entire body went rigid for a moment—then his orgasm hit like a fucking tidal wave. His entire body convulsed—violent, full-body shudders that made the bed creak. Ilya wrapped both arms around him—one tight across his back, the other sliding up to cradle the back of Shane’s head. He pulled Shane’s face down into the curve of his shoulder, tucking him close to hold him through it because he knew Shane would be absolutely spent after. His back arched impossibly under Ilya’s weight, hips grinding helplessly as wave after wave tore through him. Muffled, wrecked sobs vibrated against Ilya’s neck. His eyes rolled back again, fluttering shut, breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,098
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76960816