21 – 36 of 36 Works in Light Bondage
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The command had sliced through him like a knife, and Shane had very nearly opened his mouth. It didn’t just paralyse his jaw, his entire body locked up, shock rippling through him. No matter how many comments were made, neither of them had ever been so evil as to order him so directly. Not since- But then Ilya Rozanov had tackled both of them to the ground, flinging his entire body weight at them, skates flying into the air. - AU where Shane just wants to play hockey but biology and shitty teammates make it nearly impossible. Ilya just wants to have some good competition on the ice. They make it work (eventually).
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 75,287
- Chapters:
- 8/8
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77013786
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Sometimes they just can't keep their hands off each other.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,026
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77763506
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“You ever been tied up?” Ilya asks. Shane shakes his head. “Do you trust me?” “Of course.” Shane responds without hesitation. “Good.” Ilya smirks. He sets the ties down, then tucks his fingers under the hem of Shane’s shirt. Instinctually, he raises his arms and lets Ilya pull it off him. Ilya tosses it somewhere on the floor, and picks one of the ties back up. “Will you be a good boy for me?” Shane nods. Even though coming out to Shane’s parents went about as smooth as it could’ve, Shane still feels keyed up after they get home. Ilya takes him out of his head.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,459
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77686766
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Shane's expression twists; his eyes begin to well with tears beneath the blindfold. “You’re perfect, Ilya. You’re the best. You—you make me feel so fucking good.” Please. Please don’t be disappointed in me. Ilya removes his blindfold carefully—tenderly. His voice is soft when he speaks again, his thumb wiping Shane’s wet eyelashes. “I’m good, yes, but I am not very forgiving. You know this, right?” Shane seeks out Ilya to help him take the edge off.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,632
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77424641
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you wanna guess (the color of my underwear) by afterphantoms
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-10
Quiet domesticity leads to a misunderstanding when Shane discovers a pair of panties in Ilya's laundry basket. (PWP - complete)
- Part 1 of hollanov in panties
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,066
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77336551
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Ilya's been carrying the weight of a playoff series on his shoulders. Shane has a plan to make him forget all of it. Starting with two silk scarves and the headboard. ~~~ "Fuck my mouth." Shane stroked him with a slick hand, spreading the mess of spit and precum. "Use me. I want to feel you in my throat tomorrow." "Shane." Ilya's voice was strangled. "Baby, I don't want to hurt you." "You won't." Shane held his gaze, licking his lips. "I want to gag on you. Please, Ilya." Something snapped behind Ilya's eyes. "Open your mouth."
- Part 5 of Stolen Moments
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,299
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77244926
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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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“You are sure, Hollander?” Ilya grins with a glimmer of sympathy in his light blue eyes. Flashes of scenarios pass through Shane’s mind, not understanding where the rope will go, but Shane never backs down from a challenge. He puts on a fake smile, “Why not, Rozanov?” “Hello.” “Hi, Hollander.” Shane runs his hand through his freshly washed, jet black hair, trying to appear confident. But he can’t help how fast his eyes fall to Ilya’s bare chest, unable to match his gaze. Ilya, always endeared by Shane’s antisocial nature, speaks gently, “You look pretty. Just for me, huh?” “No.” Shane cheeks flush, aware of how he’s being analyzed. “I had to take a shower after the game.” “Ah,“ Ilya takes a step, closing the space between them, “I see.” His own appearance reflects the late hour. Shirtless in low hanging sweats, as his messy blond curls round his head like a halo. Shane’s eyes remain down, crossing his arms over his chest. Ilya pauses, always able to sense Shane’s caution when they’re together. He inhales, upset with his own strong and stubborn nature. He can’t afford to lose Shane. Now inches away, Ilya's nose fills with Shane’s familiar clean, floral scent, seemingly perfect to him. They don’t speak anymore. Instead, Ilya raises his right arm, caressing Shane’s soft cheek with his callused fingers. The stale hotel air becomes lighter knowing what comes next. Ilya’s rough fingertips trace along Shane’s pouty lips, instinctively relaxing his jaw and allowing Ilya’s thumb to enter his warm mouth. He sucks it, taking his rival as he so often does. Intoxicated by the heaviness of Ilya's finger lying on top of his tongue. He pulls him in until his smooth lips wrap around his bony knuckle, then pulls back, closing his eyes in complete bliss. Shane hums, hollowing his cheeks, completely fixated on the soothing feel in his mouth. Ilya’s own lips part in a trance, mumbling approval in his native Russian. He admires how peaceful Shane looks with closed eyes. His long, dark lashes lying above his lightly freckled skin, like a doll. Ilya leans in, replacing his thumb with his plump lips. They share a sloppy kiss, spit collecting at the corner of their mouths. Tongues cross over top of one another, shamelessly moaning as they unite. Ilya eagerly digs under Shane’s shirt, pulling the fabric over his head. They can’t stay away for more than a few seconds, like magnets, their lips crash together once again. Ilya’s top lip overtakes Shane’s shallow mouth, shoving his tongue deep inside, relishing in his submission. Ilya speaks into Shane's open mouth, “I have something.” Shane tilts his head back, “Yeah?” “Yes. Something for us to try.” “Okay,” Shane hesitates, dread filling his chest, hating surprises. Ilya turns away and picks up a paper bag that’s been tucked behind a chair. He opens it and pulls out a meter of rope that could have been purchased at any hardware store. Shane's eyebrows come together, confused, “For you?” Ilya’s face grows wide, showing off all his crooked teeth. He laughs in Shane’s face, “Ha- no, no, no.” He walks towards him holding the rope between their bare torsos, “For you.” Shane gulps, intrigued but uneasy, “Um, okay yeah.” He hates how nervous he sounds. He’s not as experienced as his partner, still slightly fearful of Ilya’s unpredictable dominance. “You are sure, Hollander?” Ilya grins with a glimmer of sympathy in his light blue eyes. Flashes of scenarios pass through Shane’s mind, not understanding where the rope will go, but Shane never backs down from a challenge. He puts on a fake smile, “Why not, Rozanov?” Shane’s suddenly being pushed backwards, landing fiercely onto the hard mattress. Ilya commands in his deep voice, “Arms up.” Shane obeys, revealing the dark hair in his pits beneath his sculpted triceps. Ilya sits on his chest, running the rough rope through his hands, stinging his palms. He grips Shane’s wrists together with one hand, keeping them in place. Shane whines from the sensitivity quickly finding its place around his thin skin. He watches Ilya’s face contort with concentration as he works above him. His chest rapidly rising and falling from anticipation. Shane wonders when Ilya learned how to do this, and how many other people have been below him, just waiting. Once his wrists are carefully tied together, Ilya extends the rope behind a rod of the bed’s headboard, trapping his arms above his head. Ilya mumbles under his breath, “Beautiful,” while moving off Shane's hard body. Shane automatically tries pulling his arms down, already uncomfortable in his position. The rope only rubs further against his wrists, a soreness quickly developing, keeping him motionless. He understands now, he’s stuck in a room with a feral animal, exposed and vulnerable to whatever it wants to do with him. Shane can only strain his neck forward to watch Ilya wander around the bed. The low light of the hotel room casts a deep shadow over Ilya's brow bone, blocking his eyes, only adding to Shane’s apprehension.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,849
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76489256
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Ilya gets traded onto Shane’s team. The problem was that Shane had one big, shameful secret —and Ilya Rozanov was the only one who knew.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 20,456
- Chapters:
- 6/6
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75771321
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“Okay. You want to say no, you want to fight me. Pretty boy, all alone in his glass house. You want me to force you?” He didn’t need Shane to answer, really; Shane was fully hard against Ilya’s thigh and pink under his freckles. But it was best to be direct about these things. And he wanted to hear Shane say it, anyway. “I—yeah. Make me. Is that too weird?”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,270
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76506621
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“Hi,” Hollander says, leaning forward, his lips grazing Ilya’s. Ilya pulls back. “Are you going to behave?” Hollander considers this and, for a rare moment this evening, sounds completely genuine when he responds, “Is that what you want?” Or Shane walks Ilya like a dog and gets exactly what he wants.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,299
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76328981
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Nowhere to go but on (together) by DaughterofLegends, ticiakitty
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2025-12-23
Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov both need one thing to live their dreams of playing for the NHL: a mating bite. Shane's an omega, and the League doesn't allow unmated omegas to play hockey. Ilya's a Russian alpha, who needs a mate to get a U.S. visa. Their slightly harebrained solution? Bite each other, and let the unfinished bond fade. After five years of stupid texts, awkward heat-care packages, and dancing around their feelings, the bond still hasn't faded and ignoring it has become impossible—something's got to give. -- Contains spoilers for those who have only watched the show, and for The Long Game. A/B/O AU that very loosely follows canon. Happy ending!
- Part 2 of Lying to the NHL, but make it A/B/O
- Part 4 of Fighting Puritanism, one smutty Hollanov AU at a time
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,062
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76287076
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cut through all the noise by theboyysavior (belasteals)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-23
Ilya leaned down and pressed an almost chaste kiss to Shane’s lips. “Stay.” Shane dutifully stayed still on the bed as Ilya went to the other side of the room, rummaging in the drawer for longer than usual. Shane fought the urge to turn and see what Ilya was doing until the other man came back, crouching down in front of him. He was holding lube, a condom, and–to Shane’s surprise–the pair of leather handcuffs that usually sat in the back corner of their drawer. They didn’t use the cuffs often, maybe a handful of times ever. Shane didn’t usually like not being able to touch Ilya. But Shane felt something warm and eager stir inside of him. He wanted Ilya to make the choices tonight. He was tired of thinking. Shane has a lot on his mind. Ilya gets a few things off it. Shane frowned at the pot of rice as the water splashed out cloudy again. He wasn’t counting how many times he washed it, but Ilya was stirring the saucepan on the stove, and the rice wasn’t going to be ready at the same time. Shane had been moving slowly, distracted. He turned on the tap again. At the same time, his phone buzzed in his pocket. The Rolex rep, confirming what time the shoot was tomorrow. Or his mom. Or Hayden, or JJ, or someone else wanting to talk about the shitshow last night. He swirled his fingers through the rice grains impatiently and poured the water out again. It ran clear enough. Buzz. Tap back on, cold water up to the joint of his finger. Buzz. Three texts meant it was probably Hayden. Shane didn’t want to talk about the game. If the Rolex rep hadn’t sent the time yet, he didn’t know how early he was getting up in the morning. They couldn’t shoot too late, because Shane had to be back at the rink for video review, which was going to suck. Theriault was pissed. He set the pot back into the rice cooker, closed the lid, and frowned again. Nothing happened. He pushed a button, but nothing lit up. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Piece of-” “Shane.” Ilya put his hand on top of Shane’s gently. His tone it wasn’t the first time Ilya had called his name. “Is not plugged in.” Shane took a deep breath. “What’s going on?” “Nothing. I’m just distracted.” Ilya’s hand trailed up Shane’s arm, and Shane turned a little to face him. Ilya brushed his fingertips across Shane’s temple. “Where are you?” Shane leaned into the touch and Ilya flattened his hand against Shane’s cheek. Shane closed his eyes. “Pittsburgh.” “Pittsburgh sucks. Montreal is much nicer.” Shane let out a little huff. “You didn’t get shut out by them.” “No. But half your team has the flu.” “I don’t have the flu. I played like shit.” “Ah, and hockey is individual sport, yes? You can do everything by yourself?” Shane turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the palm of Ilya’s hand instead of responding. He let out another deep breath. “Shane. Sit. I will finish dinner.” Shane didn’t feel like arguing. “Okay,” he mumbled into Ilya’s palm. Ilya took his hand away, and Shane missed it immediately. “And give me your phone.” “Why?” Shane was already handing it over. “Because you will look at it and be more stressed.” Ilya slid Shane’s phone into his pocket. “Sit.” Shane wandered into the living room and sat on the couch. He looked around, picked up the book on the end table he had been ignoring for weeks, and stared blankly at a page until Ilya came back in with two bowls. Shane ate listlessly. When they were done, Ilya pulled him back against his chest and Shane let himself relax a little into the other man’s arms. They stayed like that for a while, Ilya’s breath soft against the top of Shane’s head and his arms strong around him. “You are stressed,” Ilya said into his hair eventually. “Very observant,” Shane said quietly, no real bite to it. “Mmm. Nothing gets by me. Like Pittsburgh goalie.” Shane turned to complain, but Ilya kissed him gently. “Still. You are very stressed lately. You are thinking too much.” “I’m sorry. We haven’t seen each other in weeks, and I’m-” Shane gestured with one hand, and Ilya caught it in his firm grasp. “No apologizing. Come to bed. You need to relax.” Shane reluctantly stood up from Ilya’s embrace. “The dishes first.” “Yes, yes, dishes. Then bed.” Ilya had already loaded most of the dishes into the dishwasher. Shane rearranged them properly and slotted their bowls and forks in. Ilya kissed him again as soon as they made it into the bedroom, backing Shane up until the bed hit the back of his knees. They stayed like that for a while, kissing gently and then deeply, until Ilya pulled back and his eyes searched over Shane’s face. Shane made a frustrated little sound and leaned back towards him, but Ilya put his hands on Shane’s shoulders and guided him down to sit on the bed. “You are thinking too much. Let me make your brain quiet, yes?” Ilya said. His voice was even, but Shane could see he was half-hard in his sweatpants. Shane was almost embarrassed at how quickly he nodded. He didn’t want to think anymore. His whole body, tired and tense, craved Ilya. Ilya leaned down and pressed an almost chaste kiss to Shane’s lips. “Stay.” Shane dutifully stayed still on the bed as Ilya went to the other side of the room, rummaging in the drawer for longer than usual. Shane fought the urge to turn and see what Ilya was doing until the other man came back, crouching down in front of him. He was holding lube, a condom, and–to Shane’s surprise–the pair of leather handcuffs that usually sat in the back corner of their drawer.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,735
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76244011
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Lily: It is too dangerous to be alone with concussion. I will stay at your apartment like nurse. -- Shane goes to Montreal for the weekend during his concussion recovery. So does Ilya.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,496
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76155321
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better whip me if i misbehave by evilrussianprincess
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-19
“Shane…” “Who the fuck do you think you’re calling Shane?” “Sweetheart,” Ilya corrects, tilting his head down against Shane’s grip on his hair to try to catch his lips. “Please.” “I can do everything she can,” Shane says. “But you’ve been a bit too naughty today. I’m tying you up first.” “Oh, no,” Ilya says, voice going high and breathy. “That’s terrible.” — Or - The jealous Shane/pathetic top Ilya fic where Shane makes Ilya beg for it
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,400
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76041391
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waiting right here just to show you by broccolicheddarchicken
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-04-22
The picture he must've made in that moment: naked and tied up, on his knees, untouched and hard, with Ilya down his throat, drool all over him, staring up at Ilya through his lashes. He was glad he couldn't actually see himself, it would've been too much, but he had no doubt this was a mental image Ilya would be saving forever. Shane's been antsy all day, and Ilya proposes he spend some time on his knees to calm his nerves. Despite his better judgment, Shane agrees.
- Part 2 of kinky hollanov
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,637
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #64759858
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