361 – 380 of 503 Works in Not Rated

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  1. Good by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • ?
    • ✓

    2026-01-03

    The second dinner goes better than the first. (Shane is his mother's son.)

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    3 versions
    AO3:
    #76982026
  2. Shane had a reputation since his rookie days, the polite good-boy Canadian compared to Ilya’s cocky bad-boy Russian branding. Neither of them were perfect fits, they were more than the little boxes the media shoved them into, but convincing anyone of that was a hard thing. So Shane never really tried, it wasn’t all that hard though. He was polite – in part because he cared about how he was perceived – and he was Canadian, he loved and lived for hockey. Ilya was cocky, he smoked, he didn’t give a shit about being nice to reporters who asked stupid questions, he chirped loud and played hard, and regularly visited the penalty box. Shane had never once been involved in a fight on the ice or been sent to the penalty box. That wasn’t to say Shane had never been involved in a fight. Despite the polite Canadian exterior and the boring personality Ilya so loved to tease him about, Shane had his fair share of experience throwing gloves and dealing punches. He was just more discreet about it. OR the five times Shane got into fights off the ice without anyone knowing, the two times he got into a fight on the ice for everyone else to see, and the one time Shane didn’t need to get involved in the fight

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    1
    AO3:
    #76919896
  3. Ilya learns a bunch of hockey slang in the first few years of his career and he thinks he's got English down pretty well, unfortunately, you never stop learning

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    AO3:
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  4. During the offseason, Shane gets sick and has to cancel his plans to go out with his team. Instead he stays in, letting Ilya take care of him. That’s until Hayden and J.J. get the bright idea to visit him at his cottage… OR The Hollanov sickfic I wrote because I am ill myself (mentally and physically)

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    AO3:
    #76558956
  5. What if Shane was the one that almost died in a plane crash in The Long Game?

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    AO3:
    #76955341
  6. Shane Hollander spent his career proving he could handle any hit, but thirty-eight weeks of pregnancy and a hyper-protective Ilya Rozanov are testing even his legendary endurance. or Hollanov is pregnant with twins

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    AO3:
    #76201126
  7. They had three chairs up at the countertop. If he sits in the second one, something bad will happen. Everyone will die. The house will explode. You can warn him. He has to sit in the first one or the third one. If not, everyone you love will die and it will all be your fault. Ilya moved to sit in the second chair. Shane bristled, hands trembling. “Don’t.” Shane snapped. Ilya froze, glancing at Shane with a concerned and confused expression. Shane inhaled, then exhaled. Guilt crawled up his throat. He was being fucking insane. Still though, what if he wasn’t being insane? What if there was a 0.1% something bad would happen to Ilya? or: shane hollander has a bad ocd day. luckily, he has people to help him through it

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    AO3:
    #76908206
  8. The Ottawa Centaurs love having Shane Hollander on their team, really they do. They do however miss someone else getting a chance to be the Slut of the Week every once and a while.

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    AO3:
    #76916226
  9. They were always competing, in a league of their own, but always together. Every conversation they'd had about their future involved their careers ending the way they'd started. Together. Ilya had been with the Ottawa Centaurs for over eight years. He had turned a dying franchise into a team to be reckoned with. The addition of his husband only further cemented Ottawa's place in the league. But as the crowds grew bigger, and the team's points got higher, Ilya felt the flame within him dwindle. -- OR -- Ilya retires, featuring his final game and jersey #81 retirement ceremony.

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    AO3:
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  10. Shane opens his mouth a few times, like he tries to get words out without succeeding. “But it hurt you too,” he says finally. “You just wanted to check on me, your fucking boyfriend, after I got hit. And I pushed you away.” Usually, hearing Shane refer to himself as Ilya's boyfriend sends a warm shiver down his spine. But now, with that almost venomous voice, the shiver is instead cold as ice. OR, Shane gets injured during a game and Ilya is once again forced to see him unmoving on the ice. Neither of them handles the aftermath well.

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    AO3:
    #76929261
  11. Shane just might be the world's most enthusiastic hockey dad, but when Ilya points out their son might not be enjoying the sport as much as Shane thought, he struggles to reevaluate his expectations.

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    AO3:
    #76955391
  12. Pedikulez by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • ✓

    2026-01-02

    Hayden accidentally infects the entire team with head lice from his kids. Shane passes it on to Ilya, who has no idea what “lice” means in English and completely freaks out. A short, cute story set before the cottage, full of love, fluff, and a little reflection on what it would be like if they were actually together. PS: You most likely don’t have lice, so don’t panic if your head starts itching after reading this! Mine definitely did Shane stood under the hot spray of the shower, smiling to himself. Last night with Ilya had been unreal. Montreal had beaten Boston 4–2, which had left Ilya absolutely furious afterward, and that ending in the angriest, best sex Shane had ever had. And after that, the best sleep of his life, tangled up next to him. Shane tilted his head back and let the water run down his face, dragging his fingers through his hair. He scratched hard. God damn it, his scalp itched like crazy. Maybe he was allergic to the new shampoo. Fuck that organic stuff, he should just brought the normal stuff. He shut off the water, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it tight around his hips. Just as he stepped out of the bathroom, his phone started blowing up. Lily: You are cute when you come Lily: Thanks for last night. Excited to see you lose next time 😘 Shane snorted. Asshole. He was about to type something back when a new notification popped up. Hayden: I am so sorry guys. Please don’t kill me. JJ: What did you do? Arthur: If you say norovirus again, I swear to God. We play against New york tomorrow. Hayden: I talked to Coach. He’ll tell you what to do. Arthur: You’re scaring me. Hayden: Jade and Ruby have head lice. I have head lice. And we all shared that helmet for pictures earlier this week… yeah. I’m so fucking sorry. Shane’s stomach dropped. His scalp itched harder. Head lice? He’d never had head lice in his life. Wasn’t that a kid thing? Could you get sepsis from it? Could it spread to—God, he didn’t even know. Another notification came in. Coach: Everyone to the locker room ASAP. I’ve called in hairdressers and the team doctor. We’ll handle treatment today. If you want to buzz your head, today’s the day boys. I’m sending instructions for what to do with bedding, clothes, towels—everything. Shane stared at his phone. Fantastic. *** The locker room was chaos. Laughter echoed off the tiles. Half the guys had already buzzed their heads; others sat on folding chairs with shower caps pulled tight over their hair, taking selfies and laughing like this was some kind of prank. How were they so calm? “Hayden, this is your fault!” someone yelled. “My wife says I’m sleeping on the couch for a month!” “I’m sorry, David!” Hayden shouted back from the showers. “Jackie’s baking brownies for everyone!” Shane made his way over. Chairs were lined up near the showers, guys combing through hair and applying treatment with help from the team doctor and hairdressers. Hayden sat in one of the chairs, looking like a kicked puppy. “Shane! Over here!” Hayden said. “I’m really sorry, man. I know you hate this stuff. But it’s harmless if you treat it right.” “Yeah, yeah,” Shane muttered. “At least I don’t have hair like Jonas.” He nodded toward Jonas, who sat stiffly while a stylist worked through his long, thick dark hair. Jonas had been traded from Ottawa last summer and had sworn not to cut it until he won a Stanley Cup. Hayden winced. “You think Boston Lily’s gonna be mad at me?” Shane shot him a look. “What? No, I, What…” “Shh. It’s fine,” Hayden said. “You left early, you were glued to your phone all night, smiling like an idiot. Acting like you do when Boston Lily is in town.” “Hush,” Shane said, face burning. Fuck. Ilya. His thick, blond curls. Their heads on the same pillow. Skin to skin. Shane definitely had lice. Which meant… Oh god. The media would eat this alive if it got out. The Montreal Voyageurs with lice. And if Ilya had it too…

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    AO3:
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  13. Ilya gives away “Jane’s” number for the Centaur WAGs group chat. Inspired by please leave a message by subcorax Upon Ilya’s signing with the Centaurs, the first order of business to attend to was the WAGs group chat. “Do you have anyone that you might want to include? I can send her number over to my wife, Cassie.” Boodram explained. Ilya couldn’t help the smirk that crossed over his face in that moment. “Yes. There is someone…” ••• Cassie added ###-###-####. Cassie: Hey everyone! This is Jane. She’s Ilya Rozanov’s WAG? Cassie: Sorry. Zane didn’t really specify what the situation was with you two, but apparently Ilya said it was okay to add you here? Shane was going to kill Ilya later. Staring at the open “Centaur WAGs” chat, he wasn’t even sure what to say in this situation. The truth? Jane: Ilya and I have been dating for a while, but we’ve been a thing for much longer. Jane: He gave you my number to add here? Cassie: Well, he gave it to my husband so that he could give it to me, but yes! Welcome! No matter the situation, we’re excited to have you. Lisa: Hi Jane!! I’m Lisa, Wyatt Hayes’s wife. It’s nice to meet you! Caitlin: Glad to have you! I’m Evan Dykstra’s wife, Caitlin. Selena: I’m Selena— Nick Chouinard’s wife. It’s so exciting to have someone new! You’re with a good bunch. Promise. The whole thing was interesting. He appreciated the added outlet— in the least— considering how Hayden had little interest in speaking about the intricacies of his relationship, and how Rose was usually too busy to talk much. Maybe it had been done with the intent of getting on his nerves, but perhaps Ilya had done him a favor, after all. Jane: It’s great you meet you all. A WAGs chat will be a new experience for me. Shane wouldn’t tell them that that was because he was usually the player over the partner. Of course, he also wouldn’t mention that he was neither a “wife” nor “girlfriend.” Cassie: Most of the time, we just talk about the boys and what our lives are like as their partners. It can be stressful, can’t it? Hopefully, we can provide you a good space to open up and release that stress! That was easy enough. Shane was often stressed out by how little he and Ilya’s schedules overlapped throughout the season— although, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty as a contributor to the problem. A part of him felt as if he was out of his element, so he decided to text an expert in the subject. Shane: Ilya had me added to the Centaur WAGs group chat. What do I do? Jackie: He did??!!! Jackie: I thought you guys were still keeping things under wraps! Shane: He introduced me as “Jane.” It’s the name he has for me in his phone, since we have to be careful about who we’re caught texting and calling. Jackie: Hm. Okay. Jackie: Well, just play it cool! The girls will probably talk about hockey and the boys and their own experiences as WAGs. Do your best to contribute, and don’t be afraid to have fun! I love the MTL WAG chat. It can be a super fun community! Jackie: Put yourself out there, Shane. This will be good for you! How often do you get to talk about you and Ilya as a couple? Jackie was right, just as she always was. His attention was captured by another notification from the Centaur WAGs chat. Lisa: How do you feel about Ilya’s transfer to Ottawa, Jane? Lisa: I know there’s certainly a lot of discourse about it online. People saying he’s throwing his career away. Do you have any thoughts? Caitlin: OMG YES!!! Do you happen to know why he transferred? We’ve been theorizing, but we haven’t reached a conclusion yet! Just like that, he’d been accepted into the conversation. Shane considered his answers, debating whether or not to act on the side of caution before ultimately going for it.

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    Files:
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    AO3:
    #76892611
  14. Shane hides a career ending injury from Ilya for months, terrified of disappointment and loss. When his body gives out, so does his carefully constructed facade. or Shane is stubborn and doesn't want Ilya to worry.

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    English
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    Files:
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    AO3:
    #76506186
  15. An angry Montreal fan corners Shane at a bar after the events of the Long Game. Protective Ilya, and mild J.J bashing cause fuck that guy

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    AO3:
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  16. Ilya knocks once. An innocent light, almost polite one. There are parties Shane could be at. Teammates, friends, noise. Ilya has just left a great one himself. Irish-exited the club, ditched half his team, taken a reckless cab ride across the city just so he could see Shane Hollander. or, Ilya plays Shane on NYE

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    AO3:
    #76831091
  17. There are footsteps outside, a nurse probably, so Ilya readies himself for goodbye. It’s too soon. Too soon. How am I meant to leave him here? Bruised, without wrapping him up in that navy weighted blanket he likes. Without feeding him his stupid, regimented rabbit diet and his ginger ale? Without teasing him about his neatness habits and about the singular pass he missed in that game we played against each other years ago? Without kissing him all over–his cheeks, his lips, his eyelids, across his chest, and the curve of his spine. His scapula, where his wings must be hiding. Angel Hollander. Boring Hollander. Beautiful Hollander. That’s all he is, beautiful. Ilya’s chest feels full to bursting. If his heart were a machine, it would destroy him, and then the world, with love. OR, Shane gets hurt on the ice. Ilya does not take it well. He thinks, and thinks, and thinks.

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    AO3:
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  18. “I’m fine,” he dismisses lightheartedly, almost chuckling at how Ilya’s whole body seems to decompress at the information. A small smile appears on his lips. He reasons. Fractured collarbone, concussed, arm in a sling. Out for the playoffs. Him being obliged to stay at home, resting and recovering, while his team could continue playing for the rest of the season without him — he knows the minute the feeling of the meds would wear off, the thought alone would have been enough to send him into psychosis. He considers his options. His throbbing head doesn’t really help. He then supposes he could have a little fun of his own. “Heh,” Shane giggles before even managing to blurt anything else out. “My boyfriend is here.” — (Or: dopey Shane has the time of his life wooing a very worried Ilya.)

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    AO3:
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  19. real hollanover @twentyfour guys why does every member of the hollander-rozanov family like to lick shane's face :0

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    AO3:
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  20. The Centaurs have officially won the Stanley cup! Now, there’s no better time for Ilya Rozanov to claim his real prize. The world of hockey had been shocked enough to discover that Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov could actually be friends, so the discovery of the truth would surely come as even more of a surprise. Still, the two men had decided they were done hiding. It had gotten far too hard to wipe away the fondness off their expressions in the past few years, and today Montreal and Ottawa would be playing the final game of the playoffs. Up until this point, they’d managed to tie, so whoever won today would have the official title of cup-winners. And no matter who it was, Shane and Ilya were going to kiss on that ice. Of course, they both wanted it to be them— but with only half a period left, it was obvious it would be Ilya. Shane wanted to laugh at the absolute ego and stubbornness that had fueled him into fulfilling the fantasy he’d set for them years ago. He’d built Ottawa up as a team and brought them to the playoffs just to defeat Shane and tell the world they were in love. It was so weirdly romantic that he couldn’t even be mad— because at the end of the night, Ilya would raise the cup over his head, kiss Shane with the ferocity of a man who truly had it all, and their secret would finally be out in the open. Tonight, they’d both walk away winners. Ilya skated past him on the ice, throwing him a smirk. “You like view, Hollander? It is good to see me win again, yes?” “Not a chance in hell!” He shouted back, but really, he was proud— because Ilya was amazing, and Ilya belonged to him, and soon everyone would know. Before they’d stepped onto the ice, Shane had stepped in front of his team to apologize for what would come next. They’d been confused— of course— when he’d given no further context, and he knew there was no reason to be ashamed of his relationship, but he’d felt it a necessary warning nonetheless. When he’d come out as gay, they’d accepted him with open arms. Then, when they’d found out he had someone, they were happy for him. Hayden— who already knew about them, but didn’t yet know of their surprise plans— had just said: “Fuck, Shane. Are you pulling a Scott Hunter tonight?” That had gotten the rest of the team excited, slamming Shane on the back with enthusiasm. “Fuck, man! It’s about time. We’re excited for you!” J.J had told him. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m excited, too.” Still, he knew they weren’t prepared. Finding out it was Ilya Rozanov might be a different story— especially with the inevitable amount of press that would hover outside the locker room afterwards. When the buzzer rang out, Ottawa’s players shot their arms up in victory, and Shane knew they were close. First, they had to get through the ceremonials— shaking hands in good sportsmanship, lining up, and watching as Ilya’s team was awarded the cup. Shane could feel the disappointment radiating off his teammates, but as much of a bummer as it was to lose, he wouldn’t let it ruin this moment. His eyes stared down Ilya as he raised the cup over his head with an elated smile, roaring out like he’d done all those years ago. This time, though, it wasn’t an act of proving he’d done it. This time, the bottom of the cup rested on his golden brown curls, and he screamed out in Russian. Shane couldn’t make it out; he still hadn’t learned. Still, he managed to make out the name mama, and realized Ilya had dedicated the moment to his mother. And he was so fucking proud— of right then, but also of how far he’d come. He realized, then, that the smile splitting his face in two was probably far too ecstatic for someone who had just lost to their lifelong rival. It didn’t matter anymore. Ilya lowered the cup in his grip, handing it off to one of his teammates. The whole arena watched as he skated over to Shane, placing his hands on either side of his face and pulling him in. In front of everyone— finally, in a place that wasn’t considered a hideout— their lips crashed together.

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    AO3:
    #76887916
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