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  1. found connection (baby i can't stop calling you) by

    Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
    • E
    • ✓

    2026-06-18

    Shane calls a phone sex hotline and gets Ilya crooning unspeakable filth in his ear. It kind of devolves from there. ——— Ilya is a college student in Boston working on the side as a phone sex operator, Shane is still a hockey player. They have toe-curling, back-cracking dirty phone sex and end up catching feelings along the way.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    131,252
    Chapters:
    10/10
    Files:
    2 versions
    AO3:
    #80822841

  2. Maybe Eight Years Is Enough by

    Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
    • E
    • ✓

    2026-05-16

    The pounding on the door is what jolts Shane awake. Instinctively he tries to jump to his feet and rush to get it, but a heavy weight around his torso and on top of his legs prevents him from moving. As consciousness slowly returns to him, breaking through the haze of his hangover—and possible still-drunken state—he realizes that he is being held by Rozanov. “Shane Hollander, open the door, now!” “Oh my god, oh my fucking god. Jesus fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking hell. That is my fucking mother.” OR After getting drunk at the 2016 NHL Awards, Shane Hollander wakes up married to Ilya Rozanov

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    12,592
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    2 versions
    AO3:
    #84971856

  3. Leak by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
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    • ✓

    2026-04-08

    Ilya just wanted to show off how many photos he took of the puppies. He didn’t notice the photos in the top left hand corner of his screenshot that were never supposed to see the light of day.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    4,740
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #82716886

  4. Scent Drunk by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • E
    • ✓

    2026-02-24

    Whimpering, Shane looked down between their bodies. Ilya’s other hand dragged slowly down Shane’s chest, over his trembling stomach, and came to rest just below his navel. There, pressed against Ilya’s own abdomen, was a soft, distinct bulge.

    “See?” Ilya whispered, his eyes glowing with a feral light. “That’s me. Inside you.”

    He pressed down with his fingers, right on the bulge.

    Shane screamed.

    (or, first day at the cottage gets Ilya scent drunk on his omega)

    Tag to be covered: Crying Shane Hollander

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    3,812
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #80195216

  5. jumping someone else's train by

    Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
    • E
    • ✓

    2026-02-16

    "Typical dirty Americans," Rozanov said. He took the pitcher and started pouring water into the four glasses. "You wear your shoes indoors and then you want to fuck someone else's husband and then you expect him to sleep in the same filthy sheets."

    Scott opened his mouth to retort back, but Rozanov, the gracious host, was handing him a cold glass of water. "Well, we will all get very dirty together tonight," he continued. "Shane, my sweetheart, you are outnumbered. Better hydrate."

    Hollander drank obediently. Needing something to do with his hands, Scott sipped his water, too. Kip traced circles lightly along his back. The silence that felt so pleasant outside by the fire now settled heavily over them. Scott cleared his throat. "So," he said. "What are we doing?"

    Rozanov looked at him like he was stupid. "Is it not obvious? We are going to run a train on my husband."

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    11,340
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #79647796

  6. The Edge of the World by

    Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
    • E
    • ?
    • ✓

    2025-12-30

    The Ford is a rusted-out red bucket, the tent is a mess of orange nylon, and the Norwegian woods are a lot steeper than they looked on the map. The wilderness doesn't care about NHL standings, and right now, it’s winning. For six years, Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov have lived in the quiet of hotel rooms and the heat of the game. But here, far away from the cameras and the crowds, their guard is finally starting to drop. Between charred sausages, a ruined pair of sneakers, and a leaking tent, they are running out of ways to hide from the truth. As the summer ends, they have to decide if they are brave enough to stop being rivals and start being something else entirely. The morning is quiet. The grass is grey with dew as they pull out of the driveway, the air cool enough to make Shane shiver. He’d insisted on renting this red Ford—a rusted-out bucket that he called "the authentic experience"—and it coughs as Ilya hits the street. Ilya looks at the dashboard like it’s a personal insult. Shane knows he’s thinking about his Ferrari. Shane watches Ilya’s profile in the dim light. He listens to the engine’s uneven beat and almost hopes the car just stops. A stall would freeze the world right here. It would keep them trapped in the smell of old upholstery and cold air, holding the moment still before the real world starts calling them back. A bottle of bug spray rattles in the door, breaking the silence. Shane reaches out to steady it and glances at the mess in the back seat. Tents, sleeping bags, and groceries are piled to the roof. It’s a disaster, honestly. They leave the city behind, passing quiet streets where only a few windows are lit. Shane leans his head against the glass. For six years, this is all they’ve had: fast, desperate nights in hotel rooms in cities like Detroit or Columbus. Quick sex after games where they spent an hour trying to smash each other into the boards. Even then, Ilya always made a point of pinning Shane down. Shane can still feel it if he closes his eyes: the silver cross Ilya wears dangling cold against his skin, and the sound of Ilya’s ragged breath in his ear. He loves it—the feeling of being held there by someone who actually can. Shane smiles at his reflection. He definitely has a thing for being pinned down. Lately, though, it’s been different. The hotel rooms turned into tuna melts in Ilya’s Boston apartment and long nights on his massive sofa. And Shane, being Shane, freaked out. He remembers storming out of Ilya’s place, stammering some lie about an early practice while trying not to see the hurt in Ilya’s eyes. Maybe Ilya can feel him starting to spiral again, because he suddenly reaches across the gearbox and takes Shane’s hand. The shift happened so slowly Shane didn't even notice. Ilya Rozanov—the arrogant Russian superstar who can score fifty goals or bruise Shane’s hips with the same ease—has become something else. Shane doesn’t have a name for it yet. He just knows he somehow ended up asking Ilya to come to Norway. He blames the drugs they gave him in the hospital after his last concussion. They were good drugs. He still remembers Ilya visiting him in that white, sterile room, his large hand brushing Shane's cheek. It was the only thing that felt real. Now, though, he’s stone-cold sober and terrified. Coming out has never felt like an option. Not in their world. The locker room is still a place where "faggot" is a punchline and any sign of being "soft" is a target. Even with guys like Scott Hunter leading the way, the fear is still there, eating at him. Every time he thinks about the flight back, a knot tightens in his chest. The new season is waiting for them, and the questions won't stop looping: What if Ilya decides this is too much work? What if the distance and the risk aren't worth it? Or worse—what if he stays, and ends up in a grey interrogation room back home because he’s been "corrupted" by a Canadian? It sounds like a bad Cold War parody, but the fear is real. Shane is most definitely freaking out. Again. Ilya strokes the back of Shane’s hand with his thumb. He meets Shane’s gaze, and his eyes are uncharacteristically kind. Fuck. Maybe it will be easier in the woods, away from the slurs and the cameras. He hopes so. Because when this car eventually turns back toward the airport, summer is over. The world will expect them to be rivals again. Just the thought of it makes it hard to breathe. *** “We should’ve bought the one that expands,” Ilya says. “Like fucking Transformer.” He sounds just as pissed off as he does after a missed breakaway in the third period. They’re parked at the base of a trail that goes straight up the mountain. The plan was simple: pitch the tent, look like they know what they’re doing, and start hiking before lunch. Instead, it’s a total disaster. This tent—bought during a rush of "we’re going to be outdoorsmen" energy in Oslo—is more complicated than any play Shane has ever seen on a whiteboard. Shane leans against the rusted Ford and just watches him. He can’t help but smirk. Ilya Rozanov, who can deke out the world’s best defenders, is currently losing a fight to a pile of orange nylon. His hair is a mess, and he’s somehow managed to tangle a cord around his ankle like a trap. For a guy who spent the whole flight acting like a mountain was just another challenge to beat, Ilya looks exactly like what he is: a prince from Moscow who grew up in five-star hotels. He knows as much about the woods as Shane knows about Russian opera. In the NHL, someone else handles everything. Someone else books the flights, carries the bags, and makes sure the towels are warm. Out here, there’s no PR team to make their incompetence look like "grit." “The box said it’s a four-man tent,” Shane says, holding the manual. It’s written entirely in Norwegian. “Only if those four men are very small,” Ilya mutters, “and have no personal boundaries at all.” He gives the fabric a shove and looks up at the grey peaks and the endless trees. “Seriously, Hollander. You bring me to the edge of the world just to prove we are both idiots?” “I think we bought a garden ornament,” Ilya adds, kicking a pole. “Not a shelter.” “Maybe it’s a test,” Shane says. It’s the kind of empty encouragement he usually uses in the locker room when they’re down by three. “If we survive the tent, we might survive the trip.” That arrogant grin flickers across Ilya’s face—the one that’s way too charming to ignore. It makes it hard for Shane to keep his guard up.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    4,610
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #76725426