821 – 840 of 1,231 Works in Mature

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  1. Coffee shop AU apart from it's not an AU - Shane and Ilya literally go to a coffee shop to discuss a new brand collab deal they've been offered. It's their first time out in public together in a setting like this. Ilya is distracted, and Shane is deranged. Set roughly midway through the TV show.

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    AO3:
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  2. Shane could count on one hand the number of times he had been distracted during a game. First, when Hayden took an awkward hit and went down (turned out to be a minor injury, he was able to play in the next game). The second time he had a terrible cold and was so sleep deprived and exhausted that he couldn’t keep his mind and body focused. And the third time, was when Ilya fucking Rozanov slammed him into the boards and growled, low enough for only him to hear: “A preview for tonight.” Before winking and skating away. It looked like distraction number four was going to be Rozanov’s fault as well, and they weren’t even playing each other. Or Shane watches Ilya fight and gets hard in the middle of a game.

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    AO3:
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  3. Hayden - well, Jackie - finally works out what was going on during that phone call...

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  4. It's time for Shane and Ilya to face the music. Featuring the missing conversation with his parents. His parents meeting Ilya. And then, they need to tell Hayden.

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  5. After practice, in the locker room, JJ had checked his phone with a strange look on his face. He stared at it so intensely, like he was trying to look at something very small. And then his eyes widened, and he shouted what the fuck so loud that everybody turned to look.

    “Dude, what the fuck yourself,” Hayden laughed, and swiped JJ’s phone off the floor before anyone else could get it first. And he saw—well. At first, he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. And then he saw Ilya fucking Rozanov pissing all over his best friend’s chest, and, well. What the fuck was he supposed to do with that?

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  6. After a mix-up leaves Hayden with the wrong phone for three days, he ends up learning more about Ilya Rozanov and his secret girlfriend, Jane.

    Another Hayden-Finds-Out, because we can't have too many.

    *now with the extra continuing Hayden-Rozanov friendship text threads*

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    AO3:
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  7. “Lyubimyy, you are worrying me. I know facing Montreal is big deal…” Oh, yes. They have practice later, and a game on Saturday. He knows this. They have a game on Saturday. Against Montreal. Against. For the first time in his career, the Montreal Metros will be his opponents, and he has to win. or; shane handles the fact he has to play against his former team... not very well

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  8. “Okay, one last thing. Have you decided on a name?” Shane and Ilya glance at each other before turning their attention down to their daughter. It was like the rest of the world had collapsed around this baby girl–and both of them knew after this moment they would be ruined for the rest of their lives. “Milana.” Shane says, “Milana Irina Hollander-Rozanov.” or an incredibly indulgent fic on Hollanov as girl dads

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  9. “What do you mean you never had a birthday party?” Shane was looking at him like he’d grown three heads. His brows were furrowed, his jaw slack, and underneath the surprise, there was also a look of pity. One that Ilya despised. But he had to keep cool. He was a good-tempered, chill, not-abashed-by-anything kind of guy. - Shane finds out Ilya has never had a birthday party and decides to throw him a surprise one! Featuring childhood memories, Chiron, a nice birthday dinner, sheet cake, and lots of liquor.

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  10. Admitting how they really feel after Shane's panicked debacle with Rose, Shane and Ilya figure out what being in love without hiding it is like, especially when your boyfriend gets creamed on the ice. “Concussion and a fractured collarbone but…” “Could have been worse.” “Could have been worse!” Shane agrees cheerfully, his brows knotting as he notices Ilya’s discomfort, reaching out his good hand. “Hey, heeey! C’mere!” Ilya sighs, taking Shane’s hand. “Yesss, bet-ter… I’m sorry I didn’t text you last night,” Shane pouts, and Ilya cuts him off, shaking his head and stroking his thumb across some of Shane’s freckles. “No, no, it’s okay, don’t worry about that. How are you feeling?” Shane shuts his eyes. “Loopy. Pretty bored and headachey. Not awful.” His glazed eyes open again and he looks up at Ilya. “How about you?” “Didn’t sleep at all. Worried like hell about you.” “I know, I’m sorry… and I was planning on asking you something last night! I’m mostly pissed that got fucked up.” He pulls Ilya’s hand to his mouth for a kiss. “Will you… come to my cottage this summer?

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  11. Bad depression day for Ilya. "Ilya just stares into the air -he doesn't know when he opened his eyes-, his face looks empty, lifeless like someone stole all the emotions from it."

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  12. On the drive away from Shane's parent's cottage he realizes he wants to marry Ilya and he doesn't want to wait another second. Not even to change shoes.

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  13. "Ilya. What the fuck happened?" Ilya wiped over his nose with the back of his hand again, frowning at the sticky smear left on his skin. "Nothing." "What the fuck do you mean nothing! You have a busted lip! Your nose is bleeding!" Shanes voice was louder than he would have liked. Or: Two times Ilya gets hurt and the one time Shane is there to make it better.

    • Part 5 of
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  14. Drafted to rival teams and thrown together by circumstance, Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander begin as enemies on the ice: sharp hits, sharper words, and an undeniable tension neither wants to name. What starts as stolen moments and secret encounters slowly deepens into something far more dangerous. As desire bleeds into longing and walls begin to crack. Between the brutal culture of professional hockey, fear of exposure, and the weight of everything they refuse to say out loud, both men must decide how much of themselves they’re willing to risk. Hidden is an angsty rivals-to-lovers story about secrecy, obsession, and the terrifying pull of loving someone you were never supposed to want. OR Ilya fell first and he fell harder.

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  15. “Pretend we don't know each other?” Shane repeats, a little confused in all honesty. Wasn't therapy about talking? “Yes. You are meeting for the first time in this room. Introduce yourselves.” Shane shifts in his seat, slowly turning to Ilya. It's not all that different from the first time they'd actually met; the awkward vibes radiating off Shane are almost identical. They're just missing a snowy forecast and a cigarette. He decides to go a step further, standing up. It feels the right thing to do under the circumstances. Who meets for the first time sitting down? He takes a step forward, holding his hand out to Ilya. Or not Ilya. This random man he’s about to meet, who happens to look a lot like Ilya. Ilya takes the cue, standing from his own chair with a shake of his head. He takes Shane’s hand, shaking firmly. “I’m Shane, uh, Shane Hollander.” Ilya nods. “Ilya Rozanov.” —————— Or: Shane and Ilya get sent to reconciliation therapy, and of course, handle it super well.

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  16. Shane Hollander is going to murder his agent. And he means that literally. Because his agent is the reason he’s currently wearing a hot mic during Hockey Night in Canada. Against the Ottawa Centaurs. Against Ilya. Ilya, who has no filter. Ilya, who thinks workplace professionalism is a hilarious suggestion for other people. Ilya, who has spent a decade perfecting the art of saying absolutely unhinged things to Shane on the ice, safe in the knowledge that nobody can hear him. Ilya, who definitely doesn’t know about the microphone. What follows is sixty minutes of Shane’s life flashing before his eyes while his secret boyfriend enthusiastically discusses their sex life, their broken furniture, and exactly what he wants to do to Shane after the game — all broadcast to millions of viewers. The problem? Shane can’t get a word in edgewise to warn him.

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  17. Ilya glances at Shane, at the way the dying light is catching in his hair, refracting. At that spiderlily mouth, slightly open and curling coyly, two teeth peeked through the dark gap like an American Girl doll. At that shoulder, bare and pale and close enough to touch if Ilya just leaned forward, if he just reached out and took another liberty. To touch another person is to say: I know you will die, and I am doing this anyway. His mother used to say something like this. About painting. Every portrait is an act of faith, Ilyushenka. Faith and futility both. ⋆ contrary to personal preference, ilya gets a roommate.

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  18. Shane and Ilya don't stay apart for very long, but will they get their happy ending, or is it gone before it can even begin? or Ilya sacrifices himself to save Shane. *This could technically be read as a stand-alone but it makes more sense if you read the first two fics in the series first.*

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  19. Baby Games by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • M
    • ?
    • ✓

    2026-01-09

    Shane and Ilya are playing together in Ottawa. They're married. They're happy. But is it time for the next step? This starts one year after The Long Game book ends. Baby Games 1 year after Long Game “Why on earth are you smiling?” Shane wants to know as they head down the snow-covered Montreal street. His words form puffy white clouds that hang momentarily in the air between them. “And why couldn’t we take the team bus with everyone else?” The team is staying at the Four Seasons, like they do every time they play Montreal, and it’s close enough to walk to and from the arena. But the team still provides a bus to transport them the three short blocks. In spring months, many players walk it instead, but this is January, and it’s a nut-numbing minus twenty. “This weather reminds me of Regina,” Ilya says simply with what might be a shrug, but Shane is shivering too much to really be able to tell. His hair is still damp from his shower at the rink after the morning skate, and it’s starting to freeze at his neckline. Ilya’s words sink in, and suddenly Shane isn’t thinking about the cold. Their eyes meet. Ilya’s look incredibly blue in the bright white light reflecting off the snow. Ilya smiles. Shane does too. Then Ilya admits, “Makes me want to smoke.” Shane rolls his eyes. “You’re not allowed to smoke.” “Okay,” Ilya says flatly, like he did that day a million years ago before the World Juniors, and then he winks at his husband. “Hollander!” Someone yells from across the street so loudly that they hear it over the din of traffic moving across De La Montagne Street. Shane’s head swivels out of habit even though he knows better than to respond to anyone in Montreal. When his eyes find the middle-aged guy standing by the bus stop, Shane instinctively reaches out to touch Ilya’s arm. The guy had pulls off his gloves and throws both middle fingers high in the air. “Traitorous faggot!” Shane turns away and keeps his arm firmly on Ilya’s arm. He keeps walking up the street, head down, dragging Ilya by the sleeve on his navy peacoat. “Just ignore it.” “Is homophobia. Is not okay, Hollander!” Ilya’s English gets basic when he is pissed off or upset. Or drunk. And the last name thing also kicks back in. “Yeah. Fuck him,” Shane grumbles. “No, thank you,” Illya retorts, and a quick look shows his head is still turned and he’s glaring over his shoulder at the guy now a block away. “Okay. Well, then let’s get back to the hotel room, and you can fuck me instead,” Shane offers. “My dick will probably be frozen and fall off by then,” Ilya replies. “Why the fuck did I want to walk?” Shane almost smiles at that. Ilya finally stops looking back and falls in step beside his husband. And then he picks up the pace, with a hand on Shane’s lower back, pushing him to keep up. “Let’s get back so we can warm each other up.” No one shares rooms anymore due to the new player contract agreement, so Shane and Ilya have their own hotel rooms. It’s an unwritten rule that they are given connecting hotel rooms. They never ask for them, but they get them every time. Ilya has thought about telling his team’s travel coordinator there’s no need to waste money on two rooms connected or otherwise, but he has the feeling that the team and the league needed the pretense of it all. Pretense was what Shane called it anyway. Yuna called it other words like ridiculous and delusional. Ilya doesn’t give a shit. They could put them in one room, joining rooms or entirely different hotels on opposite ends of a city, he would still find a way to sleep in the same bed as Shane. When they get back to the hotel room, Ilya begins stripping off Shane’s layers in silence. First his scarf, then jacket, then hat. Ilya pauses to run his fingers through the damp ends of Shane’s dark, silky hair. They’re stiff, almost frozen. He brings his mouth to Shane’s. Shane’s lips are cold, but his tongue is warm and eager. Ilya will never get over how eager Shane is for every touch. It turns Ilya’s own desire up a notch every single time. It never gets old. “I hate playing here,” Ilya whispers into the kiss as he moves his mouth to Shane’s neck. “Everyone does. It’s Montreal,” Shane murmurs, his hands undoing the chunky buttons on Ilya’s coat. “They are ungrateful. You did so much for them.” Ilya complains as his hands make their way under the cable knit sweater Shane wore to the morning skate. Ilya had made fun of it when they were at breakfast. Told Shane it made him look like a dad in a bad holiday movie. The kind women watch on TV from November to January. But the truth is, he likes the idea of Shane being a dad, so he likes him looking like one. He just doesn’t know if he can tell Shane that… yet. “I know. It’s okay,” Shane replies, and then his breath hitches as Ilya’s hands – freezing cold – touch his skin just under his ribs and begin moving upward. “Not okay,” Ilya argues, and as soon as the sweater is up over Shane’s head, Ilya’s mouth is on one of his nipples, sucking and licking. “Not your fault,” Shane reminds him in a rough, breathy voice. Ilya knows Shane doesn’t blame him for the way he’d felt forced to leave the Metros, but Ilya blames Ilya.

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    AO3:
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  20. Ilya encounters a surprise visitor while on a walk at the cottage, and has feelings about it.

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