421 – 440 of 455 Works in Humor
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Worst Sleep That I Ever Had by plinys
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-23
The first thing Shane notices when he wakes up is that there is a very handsome man slouched in the chair beside his bed. The second thing Shane notices is that he is definitely in a hospital. [or: Shane ends up with temporary amnesia after an injury and minor surgery and wakes up to find a handsome stranger by his bedside.]
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,709
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76237066
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All I Want for Christmas by FlameHazel18
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-23
Shane and Ilya's relationship is the best kept secret in all of professional hockey. That is, until an ill-fated Christmas party brings it all crashing down.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 14,049
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76230926
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The same number of stars everywhere by GlitterCity
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-23
“Ilya?” Shane said in that same dreamy, loopy voice as that morning. Ilya exhaled in a rush. “Shane,” he said, and wanted to sag against the glass with relief. “What happened? Is something wrong?” “Not! Any moooooooore.” Ilya swallowed. Shane hadn’t gotten any quieter in the past seven hours. “Why are you calling me? You need to be resting,” he said, and it sounded softer than he’d meant it to. “I forgot to tell you something. Important.” “You should not be telling me anything, you should be—” “My cottage has really good water pressure,” Shane announced. Ilya stared out the window while a small plane taxied past. “What?” —————— Shane's cottage has a lot of amenities, and he needs to tell Ilya about all of them.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,917
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76251501
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Five times everyone thought Shane Hollander was a bottom and one time they got confirmation Inspired by two tweets: "Men microdose bicuriousness by asking what you’d do for a million dollars." "Shane Hollander is the most submissive bottom to ever exist."
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,160
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76188546
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Interview Host - Randy: Would you want to kiss Scott Hunter? Ilya Rozanov: What? No. I kiss Shane Hollander, not Scott Hunter Ilya Rozanov: Oh. Fuck
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,129
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76217161
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"You won't if you want to fuck me tonight." Hollander had said in Russian. Dmitry glanced up, pausing from where he was unlacing his skates. What the fuck could in the conversation possibly have possibly led to this? He glanced at Rozanov, who'd been smirking and teasing Wyatt only a second earlier. Now, his mouth was firmly shut. All the rest of the team stared at Rozanov. Wyatt laughed. "Oh my God, Roz I don't even know what he said but you are so damn whipped!" "One word from the husband and he shuts up!" Bood crowed. Chouinard jumped in. "Yeah, what the hell did you say to shut him up that quickly, Hollzy?" (4 times shane was less boring than people thought. including hickeys, never have i ever, being in the room next door to them at a hotel, and a russian rookie)
- Part 2 of from the outside
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,285
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #75403081
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A Twitter-fic companion piece to "I'm Reading Your Lips (You're Speaking My Language)" set post-chapter 3—will NOT make sense without reading that first and WILL spoil the story for you!
- Part 2 of Competition is Better With a Friend
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,598
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76149451
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Ilya looks over from the sofa as Jackie heads into the living room, perking up in interest. “You are calling Pike? Was good play today. You remembered how to score! Well done.”
Hayden groans. "Rozanov? Dude, what are you doing in my fucking house?
"It is girls' night," Ilya informs him primly. "I am one of girls."
Or: Game day at the Pike house.
- Part 2 of You Have (81) Unread Messages
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,116
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76217146
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BREAKING: Shane Hollander has ADMITTED to sleeping with Teddy Bears by leaveittome
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-21
JOHN - Interviewer: Do you feel any emotions towards the Boston Raiders after they injured you, and took you out of the playoffs? Shane Hollander: I feel a lot of emotions towards their team. JOHN - Interviewer: Any in specific? Shane Hollander: Romantic feelings. JOHN - Interviewer: Uh. Romantic? What does that mean? (Presumed) Yuna Hollander: Please excuse him. He’s concussed.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,060
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76100921
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what name sounds like lily? by lucych3n
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-21
Shane accidentally reveals something in a drug-fuelled conversation with Hayden (and his wife connects some dots).
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,187
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76138501
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penalty box by transshanehollander (cyrusbreeze)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-21
When a particularly hard hit during an All Star practice scrimmage turns to an actual fist fight, Hayden Pike and Ilya Rozanov end up in timeout. or Coach Murdock puts Hayden in a broom closet with his best friend's rival turned boyfriend and he uses the opportunity to give Ilya Rozanov a “shovel talk.” Standalone fic! Ilya Rozanov was a fucking asshole. So was Coach Murdock, who was coaching the All-Star Team and who, after Hayden and Rozanov got into a fight during a practice. It actually went to blows. Shane would be pissed when he found out about it. This All Star Game might be the final nail in the coffin of the fucking fan voted fantasy draft that was some marketing scheme cooked up to get more people into hockey. Either way, Hayden had a split lip and there was already a bruise forming over Ilya’s eye. Yeah, Shane was going to be super pissed. At least he’d be pissed at both of them. At least, Hayden hoped he’d be mad at Rozanov too, seeing as he started it by slamming Hayden into the boards during a scrimmage. Hayden had told Rozanov to fuck off and shoved him and somewhere in the mix it had become an actual fight. Okay, so maybe Hayden wasn’t the best at controlling his emotions and Rozanov knew exactly how to get under Hayden’s skin and burrow in like a tick. Coach Murdock took both of them to a room not much bigger than a penalty box, opened it, made both of them stand inside of it and then said: “Work it out, kill each other, I don’t care but you better come back ready to play hockey instead of boxing.” Hayden ignored Rozanov at first. “This does not seem to be working it out or killing each other. We should listen to our coach.” Rozanov had settled on his own crate and was being annoying. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Hayden snapped. Rozanov’s eyes twinkled with amusement. The fucker loved messing with Hayden. “W e, Russians, we talk all the time.” Hayden admittedly did not know enough Russians that weren’t hockey players (who were a mouthy bunch in general) to confirm or refute that. “Well, maybe if you could stop talking, I can calm down and we can go back out there.” “But we haven’t decided if we’re going to figure it out or kill each other,” Rozanov winked. His eyes were very pretty. Hayden couldn’t lie. Rozanov was objectively attractive, especially according to Jackie’s friends, who hated Rozanov as much as anyone in Montreal did but who couldn’t deny that he had a look about him. Rozanov, who could apparently read minds, smirked. “Do you think I’m pretty, Pike?” The blush happened instantly, a family curse. “Oh you do!” Rozanov cheered. “Fuck off!” Hayden bit out. He was such a dick. “Too bad for you, I am taken,” Rozanov grinned and he actually looked like he was stupid fucking in love when he did that. It made him harder to hate but also- “Shane told you I know?” He asked, keeping his voice low. He doubted anyone was listening but you could never be too careful. “I was surprised you figured it out.” Rozanov said with a nod. “He’s my best friend,” Hayden pointed out. “Yes but you are, in Russia we say, not everyone is home. In English, it’s something about a bad knife in the drawer.” He stroked his stubble. “Not the sharpest knife in the drawer,” Hayden corrected and then groaned when Rozanov smiled. “Yes exactly! You are not the sharpest knife in the drawer.” Rozanov was still grinning. “I’m very sharp,” Hayden returned. He had also been the victim of more than one concussion so maybe a little less sharp than average. Rozanov laughed again. Hayden was considering the coach's suggestion of killing Rozanov but Shane would probably be a lot pissed off if Hayden did that. “Tell me, do I bother you, Pike?” Rozanov asked. “Yes,” Hayden answered without thinking. Rozanov hummed. “Why?” “You’re an asshole,” Hayden responded. “Yes, but so is Boiziau and you and him are friends,” Rozanov said. “Why am I special?” “Well, I thought you hated my best friend,” Hayden said. Shane and Rozanov had supposedly been rivals and along the way Hayden started hating Ilya too. “I love him,” Rozanov said like it was simple, like it was easy, like it was breathing. Hayden understood that, but it made his heart warm that someone cared like this about his best friend. “He tells me to stop teasing you, but I do not want to.” Even if that someone was an asshole. Speaking of: “Shane is my best friend-“ Hayden opened. “I am his best friend,” Rozanov corrected. “You are second best.”
- Part 2 of Hayden Pike Supremacy
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,340
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76145541
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MLH Tracker @MLHTracker rozanov81 (Ilya Rozanov) started following 3 and unfollowed 0: ✅ montrealmetros (The Montreal Metros) ✅ shanehollanderofficial (Shane Hollander) ✅ metrosworst (Worst Metros Plays) ⏎ 55 ⟳ 39 ♡ 732 rozanov defender @gremlinroz ... alright who told ilya about the mlh tracker ⏎ 0 ⟳ 10 ♡ 63 lea @rozanovsss getting ready for the game on thursday i see... masterful trolling ⏎ 5 ⟳ 1 ♡ 37 The history of Hollanov, primarily as seen through the MLH Tracker on Twitter.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,816
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76151716
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r/Bottoms
First Time Bottoming…
Shane_Hollander24: 7 years agoshaneswood: 2 days ago
ur telling me shane hollander has been on reddit this whole time talking about bottoming and we only JUST found out?- Part 2 of reddit verse
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,194
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76161721
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r/help In love with my boyfriend, not sure what to do about it? by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-20
HockeyLover12: 1 day ago
Hilarious how this Shane Hollander fan account just randomly decided to confess his gay love right after Scott Hunter did itShane_Hollander24: 1 day ago
Right yeah fan account! Yep that’s right !HahaShane_Hollander24: 1 day ago
Out of curiosity how do i delete a post.- Part 1 of reddit verse
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,005
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76067831
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“So,” Ilya says, dragging the word out. He’s swiping at non-existent crumbs on the counter, avoiding his eyes. “You have dinner at parents on Christmas, yes?” “Yeah.” Ilya nods. “I can house-sit while you are away. Make place pretty, if you have decorations. Make it less boring.” Shane’s eyebrows fly up. “What? You don’t want to come with?” Finally, Ilya looks up at him. Hesitantly, he asks, “You want me to come with?” Frowning, Shane says, “I– yeah. Yeah, of course. You think I invited you here just so you could spend Christmas alone?” Looking away, Ilya shrugs. “I am intruder here, Hollander. You have family. I do not. Makes situation… difficult, maybe. You forget the world thinks we are rivals.” “Not difficult,” Shane says immediately. “You want to come, you’re coming.” Or: Ilya's in Montreal alone during the week leading up to the Winter Classic. Shane doesn't let him spend Christmas alone.
- Part 4 of cjo + hr
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 15,611
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76006866
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“No, Ilya, stay.” The last word came out as a whine. “Why is he calling you Ilya?” Pike asked. "Why is he asking you to stay?” Hollander’s mom followed. Ilya shrugged. “How would I know?” Hollander lifted his arm out, as if reaching for Ilya. “Because I want him to stay.” It was said in a tone that seemed to say, 'obviously'. “Shane,” Hollander’s dad started. “Um- what’s going on? I thought we hated Rozanov.” He seemed to realise what he’d said and glanced at Ilya. “Sorry.” “Is fine.” "No, I don't hate him. I love him." Cliff's jaw was firmly hanging open, and he didn't think it was going to move anytime today. He felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach, all the air ripped away from his lungs. "Am I dreaming?" Cliff muttered to himself. Pike let out a strained laugh. "I think someone spiked my coffee this morning." (cliff, ilya, hayden & shane's parents visit shane in hospital after the incident. a very drugged up shane cannot hide his feelings for ilya)
- Part 3 of ways they didn't find out
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,628
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76037306
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Shane does a follow up interview. One of those slice of life things he did a few years ago at his cottage. He´s adamant nothing in his life has changed. Set a few years after canon.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,266
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75936821
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Butt Cream and Sprankle Glitter by ThePromptWasntThisLong (shredded_potato)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-17
“Arti-SEE-anal butt cream cake,” Ilya says, louder, stubbornly proud. “What? Why you laugh? They say it is arti-SEE-anal butt cream frosting. I say same thing.” Shane pinches the bridge of his nose. “Buttercream, Ilya. Butter-cream.” A sprinkle-shot challenge, a toddler-esque fight with JJ, and a fake fireplace later, Shane realizes this might be the best birthday ever. Shane spends the afternoon leaning against the kitchen counter with loops of icing ideas running through his brain, because he knows Ilya has been pacing for ten minutes straight. Pacing is not new in their apartment—post-game pacing, pre-game pacing, pacing whenever Shane leaves a stray sock on the floor—but this pacing is special. Ilya mutters words in Russian, then French, then some mashed-up bastardization that probably counts as a new dialect. His phone screen glows in his palm, speaker volume turned up so loud the hold music hisses thinly through the kitchen. “‘Froosteenk,’” he snarls at the air, rolling his eyes to the ceiling like the light fixture personally offended him. Shane leans on the island and smirks. “It’s ‘frosting.’” “That is what I say.” Ilya swipes his hand through the air. “Froosteenk.” “Listen, it’s froooosting. Lengthen the vowel.” Ilya scowls harder and jabs the phone screen. “Do not correct me. I know words. I am four languages.” “You are four languages,” Shane says. “You are also saying ‘frosting’ like it murdered your mother.” Ilya spins, the cord on their kitchen window blinds tangling around his forearm as he walks. The operator finally picks up—some cheerful woman whose voice sits at the pitch only golden retriever puppies can hear. “Hello, this is Kara at Sweet Slice Bakery. How can I help—” “I want big cake with…with…” Ilya loses it, hand waving, brows furrowing. “You know. Happy birthday Shane. Chocolate inside. White…” He hesitates. “White…froosteenk.” There is a tiny pause from Kara. “I’m sorry?” Ilya huffs out a breath, glances at Shane, then stomps toward him with the phone held out like it might catch fire. “They make me talk nonsense. I have NHL contract but cannot say cake.” He thrusts the phone at Shane’s chest. Shane takes it, biting his lip to stifle laughter, and switches to the smooth, effortless tone of a man conquering cake orders. “Hi, sorry, uhm, he wants a chocolate cake with vanilla frosting, twelve-inch round, simple ‘Happy birthday, Shane’ in blue piping.” He listens, nodding, wraps an arm around Ilya’s waist when Ilya leans against him like a scowling oak tree. “Pickup Friday morning works.” Kara sweetly confirms and the call ends. Shane hangs up, sets the phone on the counter, and turns toward Ilya with blatant glee. “There. Cake secured. And no one accidentally ordered ‘frosted sin’.” Ilya’s eyes narrow. “That is what she thinks I say?” “You mangled it so hard it sounded like ‘frosted sin.’ Which...honestly sounds delicious. Maybe you invented a new dessert.” “I am terrifying athlete. I fight bears in Siberia.” Ilya grabs Shane by the waist and lifts him until his butt hits the counter. “Little stubborn Hollywood boy should fear me.” The smug retort Shane stored up dissolves when Ilya leans in and kisses him, a smooth mouth pressing against Shane’s and humming softly. Shane curls his fingers in Ilya’s hair and nips his lower lip. “My big, scary Russian,” he murmurs against the kiss, tone thick with affection, “defeated by buttercream.” Friday morning rolls in with the bakery’s doorway chime squealing like a bird with a sinus infection, and Ilya ducks his six-foot-three frame beneath the string of paper cupcakes hanging across the ceiling. He announces himself to the bewildered teenager behind the counter by slapping both palms on the glass and declaring, “We are here for froosteenk doom.” Shane, who is still rubbing sleep out of his eyes, takes a leisurely half-step forward. “We’re picking up the Hollander order.” He flashes the employee a smile so easy the kid practically levitates to the back room. Ilya folds his arms, eyes on the cake boxes lining the counter, chest puffed like the bakery is his arena. “Ask them for extra…sprankle glitter,” he says under his breath. “Sprankle glitter?” “You know. The crunchy little sugar people.” “Sugar…people.” “Yes. You put on top. Sprankle glitter.” Ilya nods with solemn conviction. Shane has no idea what sprankle glitter might be, but he would arm-wrestle every pastry chef in the city if that is what it took to keep this glower directed at desserts. “We’ll see what they have,” he says, palms up, when the box is presented like a sacred relic. The design is simple, blue script gliding over white icing, perfect for the team dinner they’ll hold later. Ilya stares at the words, the corners of his mouth twitching upward, his thumb rubbing over the cardboard lid like he just landed a hat trick. The kid looks at Ilya the way people look at grizzlies in national parks. “Do you, um, need anything else?” Ilya clears his throat. “Do you sell sprankle glitter?” Shane can’t help himself. “He means sprinkles.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,533
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75488651
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Five times someone asked who Lily was, and one time Shane told the truth.
Or, “A Lesson in the Art of Subtlety,” presented by Shane Hollander, and witnessed by the Montreal Voyageurs.
(Inspired by the scene where Shane gets the dickpick and slams his phone down on the bed, and in ep4 when he aggressively tells Hayden he is going to visit a “friend”)
- Part 3 of The Montreal Girl (Lily & Jane)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,405
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75838736
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Ilya picks up on the third ring, breathing heavily into the phone. Shane hears a door slam shut through the device. “Do not yell at me.”
Shane stares at the half-empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table. “You suck.”
“I suck? I scored hat-trick! In your stupid body! I have not eaten in six hours, Hollander. I have not pissed. I have not laid down. I want to go home.”
“Rozanov–”
“Your mother has called twenty times. Your manager has called thirty times. Your father text me picture of crossword puzzle and ask for help. Clue is about American President from the 1980s. I cannot help!”
OR: the hollanov bodyswap fic.
- Part 3 of cjo + hr
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 22,370
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 4 versions
- AO3:
- #75819761