181 – 200 of 521 Works in Emotional Hurt/Comfort
- Emotional Hurt/Comfort ×
-
Shane Hollander knows he’s not a small guy. Years of hockey and workouts have built up his muscles, and lucky genetics from his father’s side places him just shy of six feet. He’s checked hockey players half a foot and several pounds more than him, knocked Scott Hunter into the ice in the one fight he’s ever actually thrown hands in. But as much as Shane loves the game, the fast movements, passes, and team camaraderie, there were times where he could only feel regret at following the path of athletic fame. He puts on the media smile he practices in the mirror as he brushes his hair each day, uses the bright lights of press conferences to erase his view of the audience, and keeps his answers simple and focused on hockey.
The number of people outside the arena still makes him feel crushed in on all sides, small. Eyes trained on his face, cameras flashing, pens and cell phones being passed into his hands. The itch of it all settles under his skin.
@OttawaPoliceDispatch: Police have been dispatched to a house alarm in Galetta, On. Possible break in, destruction of property.
@OttawaOfficialPoliceDepartment: Recent Missing Persons Report filed for Shane William Hollander at 9:25 pm
Epilogue: 3/1
- Part 1 of 1100200's Hollanov Fanfics
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 81,009
- Chapters:
- 9/9
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #76566541
-
Before It Gets Too Loud by Anonymous
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-02-27
Ilya realized that he had two choices, and neither of them was very good. He could let his teammates believe he was a controlling asshole of a husband, or he could talk to them about things that Shane would probably prefer to keep to himself. He knew how private his husband was, how much time he’d spent cultivating a very particular image of himself to the world. An image of himself that only Ilya and a few other people were ever able to see behind.
or
Wyatt Hayes and the rest of the Ottawa Centaurs find out that Shane Hollander isn’t exactly what they’d imagined.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,429
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80316976
-
Trending: J.A.N.E.I.F.Y.'s New Song Just Dropped And We're All Asking by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-27
Shane loves his husband. He really does! But sometimes, it can be hard to put that love into words.
So maybe, when he tried to put it into words, he ended up writing a couple songs.
And maybe he released them under a fake name.
And maybe they got insanely popular somehow.
-
AKA the one where Shane and Ilya are married and in love and Shane is a little insecure about his ability to love his husband. So he becomes a faceless pop sensation. By accident. Mostly? It's complicated.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,678
- Chapters:
- 4/4
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79317361
-
you, as my weakest point. by hcneymooners (romqntics)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-26
Ilya was looking away from the garden, away from their daughter, and at him. It was his full, unmediated attention that Shane had spent years learning to receive without deflecting, which he had never mastered and probably never would. It was a great deal of attention. It had always been. [...] "She is like you," Ilya said, into his hair. "In here." Shane felt, rather than saw, the gesture—Ilya pressing a hand briefly to his own chest. "The way you were." "I wasn't—" "Да, детка.You were." Shane huffed out a breath, and Ilya squeezed the side of his stomach with amused affection. “When I was trying to find you, you were just like this: present and also somewhere very far away, so careful with everything, and impossible to reach unless you wanted to be." A pause. "It took time. You needed time, a lot of it, and I had to trust that. And eventually, I found you.” His voice lowered, guttural. "And I will always find you." ⋆ ilya, shane, & their middle daughter—as seen by each other.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 16,834
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80303681
-
a texting fic about falling in love when you are a closeted professional hockey player.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,428
- Chapters:
- 7/7
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80153826
-
strange days are here again by hollanov_1410
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-25
Ilya rubbed at his face with both hands, trying to knead the heaviness away. It didn’t budge. Probably just caught something from the kids, he thought to himself. Some kind of virus. Except he'd been feeling like this for weeks now. Maybe longer. It was hard to tell. The days blurred when you were tired, and he’d been tired for longer than he wanted to admit. Maybe it was something still lingering in his system. That happened sometimes, right? Viruses could hang around. He'd read that somewhere. Post-viral fatigue. Yeah. That was probably it. Some dormant virus still working its way out of him. Or, Ilya and Shane are married with kids, living the life they fought for. But Ilya's depression is rearing its ugly head again.
- Part 8 of Our House
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,084
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80202636
-
throw a brick right into that stained glass by whatareyoulookingfor
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-25
When he returned he noticed that Ilya had already changed the sheets and was sitting on one side of the bed, staring at the wall. “You okay?” Shane asked. “Yes,” Ilya said. He sounded distracted. “Okay…” Shane didn’t buy it. Why does Ilya take longer than usual in the bathroom post-sex? Why is he just staring at the wall after he's changed the sheets? This Shane would never just roll over and go to sleep. or: A fix-it scene for after Fabian's show.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,941
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80217861
-
Shane was hurt and Ilya couldn’t be there with him. No one knew that he cared, that his boyfriend was in the hospital, not even Shane’s parents.
OR: Yuna Hollander just wanted to grab some of Shane’s things from his apartment during his hospital stay. She didn't suspect she'd stumble across a home invasion, and that the perpetrator would be Ilya Rozanov.
(Shane’s okay!)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 12,482
- Chapters:
- 4/4
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78562401
-
When Shane suspects Ilya has the flu but he's away for a game, he calls upon his mother to make sure Ilya is well taken care of in his absence. ___ “I’m sorry I thought you were mama,” Ilya quickly said on top of her words, still unwilling to meet her eye. So this was where the majority of the silence stemmed from, then. Shame. She immediately sat back down, plate forgotten. Even with his head angled downwards, she did not miss the red flush on his cheeks and chin. YUNA “Hey, sweetheart. Isn’t the game beginning in two hours? What’s up?” Yuna huffed quietly into the receiver of her phone, amused, as she watched David mercilessly throw snow off of the roof of their car with a shovel. He caught her watching through the kitchen window, sent her a gloved thumbs-up, and continued to sweep it from the windshield as if he had a vendetta against the wintertime. “Mom— hi,” Shane’s voice was tinny and obscured on the other line, as it always was whenever he was so far away, but this time even more-so when combined with the noise of what must have been the locker room. Shane rarely ever called this soon before a game; his priorities often more-so aligned with keeping his teammates in check and completing pre- game interviews, not placating his nervous mother. Something was amiss, and she had a nagging feeling it was serious. “Is something wrong?” She asked, unable to contain it. She heard him sigh. That was never a good start. Somewhere near him, a teammate shrieked something incoherent. But she patiently waited him out as he tried to find the words. “It’s— Lily,” he finally said, clearly frustrated. Her heart ached. She hated that he needed to be so careful with his words when around anyone he knew personally. She hated that he couldn’t be open and honest and carefree. She hated that all of the men he surrounded himself with got to talk openly about their wives and girlfriends and children, and he was relegated to a code- word like an obsessive middle schooler. But she steeled that anger for another time. “She’s sick, I think. Since I’m all the way over here for another twenty-four hours at least, I was hoping you might be able to… check up on her.” The ‘her’ was strained. Yuna nodded gratuitously, despite the fact that her son couldn’t see her. “Of course. Of course I will. Do you know specifically what’s wrong?” “Flu, I think. H—she won’t tell me. She mentioned not feeling well a few hours ago, and I haven’t heard anything since,” then, quieter, more nervous: “she would never ask for help, but I know she needs it. She wouldn’t have mentioned anything if it wasn’t bad.” Yuna Hollander did not know her son’s boyfriend quite well just yet. He had only recently fully transitioned to living in Ottawa, and therefore only just becoming a common occurrence in their lives— perhaps even more common than her own son. She had had him over plenty of times with Shane by his side, but only a handful of times by himself: almost always to watch Shane’s games. While so much was obscured in shrouded ambiguity, though, she did know one thing for certain: that Ilya Rozanov seemed to be a very stubborn man. And that Shane himself would never reach out, asking for her help on his behalf, if he didn’t think he needed it. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” she decided. “I’ll send you updates, but focus on the game for now, okay?” Shane snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Text me, please.” “Of course, honey. I love you.” “Love you too.” ____ Ilya’s new-construction mansion in Ottawa, purchased with Yuna’s amateur but enthusiastic real-estate guidance, was imposing beneath the newly-fallen snow: large and dark and glassy. David had managed to free Yuna’s car by the time she’d gathered a bag of groceries and medication, and she was not particularly cautious on her speedy drive over. She did not bother with knocking. There was no doorbell, and the house was sprawling; she doubted Ilya would notice if she walked right in if he was in one of the back bedrooms. She put in the code Shane had given her and noisy kicked off her shoes to announce her presence, but it sparked no reaction from the silent, open-floor living space. She placed her shopping bags on the counter and continued down the hall, knocking on the large door she remembered leading to the master bedroom when she had last been given a tour by the realtor, months ago. “Ilya? It’s Yuna,” she called, forcefully. There was no answer. Suddenly nervous, her hand shook, just barely, on the handle. “I’m coming in.” The room was dark, save for the meager light coming from a lamp on the dresser. It smelled stale and musky, like a teenage boy’s room when left unattended and uncleaned for too long. It was not messy, though— but eerily empty, as though nobody lived there. No clothing, no photos, no decorations besides the essential bedroom furniture. The only sign of life was a curled-up lump on the bed, facing away from the door. Yuna walked over, crouching down beside the bed near Ilya’s sleeping face. His expression, though slack and peaceful, was marred by the pallor of his skin and the unsettling, uneven pattern of his breathing. She slowly reached up to comb a hand through his hair, and nearly yanked her fingers back when she found it soaking wet, heat radiating from his skull. When she had first become a mother, pregnant with Shane, she was mortified that she would have to do things like this: take care of gross, feverish bodies, change diapers. But when she held him in her arms for the first time, it was as though his body became an extension of hers, and that fear dissipated into only small queasiness during episodes of sickness. Though Ilya was not hers by nature, she felt that same unyielding courage in the face of just how gross his damp, sticky skin felt. She quickly yanked the mound of blankets and quilts atop him down to his hips to cool him down, pressing a hand to his back. His tee-shirt was soaked through with sweat. When she then felt his neck, the temperature there was no better. “Ilya,” Yuna, though a calm person in most situations, felt the tightening in her voice. Why hadn’t he woken up by now, with all of this prodding? His skin was hotter than she’d ever felt
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,579
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80197161
-
Shane desperately needs a job and applies to be a House Omega, not realizing it is for a member of the Russian mob.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 29,529
- Chapters:
- 20/20
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77970626
-
Shane’s hearing is muffled, sound bubbling in and out like he’s swimming through the lake, dipping under the surface and back into the air. He can make out a word here and there, enough to know that Rozanov is trying to get him to breathe with him. He can feel the expansion of Rozanov’s lungs against his hands as he takes deep breaths in and lets them out. Shane tries to copy him, he does, but every inhale carries the scent of him, his cologne, his skin, his hair products. The scents are so familiar to him, and he wants more than anything for them to calm him, make him feel safe, but they are doing the opposite. Why are they still so familiar to him after not being anywhere near Rozanov for half a year? Why does he still want to shove his face against Rozanov’s throat and suck in every last last hint he can get? - Ilya takes longer to arrive in the bathroom after they present the award together, leaving Shane time to sink into a full-blown panic attack. This leads to a very different night in Vegas and an earlier beginning to Shane and Ilya’s relationship.
- Part 1 of Vegas Canon Divergence AU
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,829
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80128216
-
when a panic attack brings Shane to his knees during a heated Montreal–Boston matchup, the only name he can say is Ilya’s. In front of a stunned arena, Ilya chooses love over rivalry, crossing the ice to hold him and accidentally revealing the secret relationship they can no longer hide.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,129
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80055411
-
i've never been a natural, all i do is try, try, try by hanna (tsaritsas)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-22
Shane and Ilya are about to start their first season in Ottawa as a married couple. Yay! They have been celebrating up until this moment. But anxiety always catches up to Shane when he least expects it. And a new team means new dynamics, new playing styles, and new people. Shane knows, logically, that he's ready for it. But emotionally, maybe not. *post long game*
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,040
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80003671
-
the old religion, humming in your veins by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-22
Ilya feels like a zombie; he’s an approximation of something living.
He knows what this is, of course. He isn’t stupid. He was just a child when he watched the life bleed out of his mama, long before she stopped breathing. He watched her sweet smiles grow hollow, and her kind eyes fall blank. He felt her slipping through his fingertips like grains of sand in an hourglass; her time was up before Ilya had truly even realised that it was running out.
When he looks in the mirror, he sees her staring back at him: blond hair, and blue eyes, and an emptiness that kills.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,642
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #80066631
-
How to Build a Legacy by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-22
Shane knows the plan to wait to come out until they retire isn't ideal, but he doesn't have a better one. He thinks that he and Ilya can make it work, until his mom points out how long they will have to live their lives in the shadows.
But once he realizes that, he immediately knows that he can't come out. It would ruin his legacy.
He's pretty sure that's why he doesn't want to come out. No other reason. Right?
He is sure that's all it is until Ilya asks him if he would be safe if he came out. And he can't answer.
-------
or Yuna does the math on the retirement plan and when she points this out it opens Shane's eyes.
-------
also known as this author had (1) idea for a scene and had to reverse engineer a multi-chapter fic to make it happen.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 37,182
- Chapters:
- 14/14
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79635211
-
crystal, come right in by weeb_grass
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-21
“You're being cruel, Ilya. Please just— stop.” Pain blooms across Ilya's expression, a brief lapse in form. He's quick to recover, furrowing his brow and pursing his lips, like Shane’s made more than a simple request, like he's got Rose Landry here in his lap, parading her around like Ilya has with all his women since rookie year. Like he has any right to that pain. “Oh, so this is what it takes to make you say my name without freaking out.” Or: Shane does not go home with Rose after the club.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,083
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #79990241
-
Built For The Ice, Not The Lights by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-20
His heartbeat was too fast. His chest felt tight. The microphone foam brushed his knuckles and the texture was suddenly unbearable, coarse, wrong. Too loud. Too bright. Too close. Too much. He needed space. or After an intense game and overwhelming post-game media scrum, Shane hits sensory overload and has a meltdown. Ilya finds him hiding away and stays, grounding him through it and reminding him he doesn’t have to handle everything alone. The worst part wasn’t the game. Shane could handle the game. The game had rules. It had structure. It had the clean geometry of the rink, the crisp bite of steel on ice, the predictable rotation of shifts. Even when it was chaotic, it was a chaos he understood. Pucks moved in patterns. Bodies angled in lines. Systems nested inside systems. Shane had been mapping them in his head since he was a kid. Media Day did not have rules. Or rather, it had too many. “Just be yourself,” the PR woman had said with a bright smile that hurt to look at. “Relax. Smile. Keep your answers light.” Be yourself. Relax. Light. The hallway outside the locker room was already too loud. Reporters clustered like birds, their voices overlapping in sharp bursts. The lights from the camera rigs were brighter than usual, hot and white and relentless. Someone had turned the music up in the dressing room, bass thudding through his ribs. Shane stood at his stall, fingers curled around the edge of the wooden bench. He tried to catalog sensations the way his therapist had taught him. Too bright. Too loud. Fabric itchy at the back of his neck. The elastic in his compression shirt digging into his ribs. Sweat cooling too fast along his spine. He inhaled for four counts. Held for four. Exhaled for four. “Hollander!” someone called. “You ready?” He nodded automatically. He was always ready. Except today his skin felt like it was two sizes too small. The game itself was brutal. Fast, punishing, every hit to his body landing harder than it should. It was the kind of rivalry matchup that fed headlines for weeks. Shane scored once, assisted once, and blocked a shot that left a bruise blooming across his thigh. He played well. He played the way he always did, precise, relentless, methodical. But the crowd was louder than usual, a constant wall of noise pressing against his skull. Every whistle shrieked. Every horn drilled straight through him. When he sat on the bench, the smell of sweat and rubber and ammonia stung the back of his throat. By the third period, his thoughts had started to fragment. Too loud. Too bright. Too much. He missed a pass he would normally make without looking. His stick felt wrong in his hands, the tape uneven. His gloves were damp and suffocating. When the final buzzer sounded and the arena erupted, the sound didn’t feel like celebration. It felt like an explosion. They won. Someone clapped him on the helmet. “Media’s gonna love you tonight, Hollander.” The thought made his heart sink just a little. The hallway afterward was worse. The lights hadn’t dimmed. If anything, they were harsher. Microphones were thrust toward his face, logos flashing. Questions overlapped, voices stacking on top of each other until he couldn’t separate them. “Shane, talk about that second-period goal—” “Was that set play something you practiced—” “How does it feel to beat—” “How much pressure did you feel coming into—” Pressure. He felt pressure everywhere. In his ears. In his teeth. Behind his eyes. He tried to answer the first question. He opened his mouth. The words did not come out in the right order. “I—uh—the play, it was—” The lights flickered slightly as someone adjusted a camera, and the motion snagged his focus. “We practiced—no, I mean—” Someone laughed softly, not unkindly, but it sliced through him anyway. His heartbeat was too fast. His chest felt tight. The microphone foam brushed his knuckles and the texture was suddenly unbearable, coarse, wrong. Too loud. Too bright. Too close. Too much. He needed space.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,604
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79941316
-
Ilya can’t be so separate from it all anymore, can’t get by on hotel room visits and brief phone calls when they’re in different time zones. It isn’t enough. Not anymore. Not when every iteration of the future they could have waiting for them one day had collapsed in on itself when Shane hit the ice.
Ty moya zhizn', his mother used to tell him. But it isn’t quite enough in this sense, Ilya decides. He looks at Shane, at Emi, and he thinks instead: Ty moya prodolzhenie.
Not just you are my life, but you are my future.
- Part 2 of mélange
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,675
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79905851
-
every champagne glass tastes like you and the way you laugh by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-20
Ilya is…he’s Shane’s entire heart. The air that he breathes, the reason for everything he does. None of it would matter without Ilya. This is the closest he’s ever come to losing him, and the thought of it - the possibility that everything they’ve been fighting for could just be lost - had struck Shane so acutely, so agonisingly.
He’d once thought that losing hockey was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. He knows, now, that isn’t true.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,777
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79930471
-
lay me down on the altar, and forever’s what i’ll vow by justhockey
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-02-19
“Am I too boring for you?” He doesn’t mean to ask. Doesn’t mean for those words to come out. They fall from his lips before he has a chance to stop them, and the second they’re out there he wants to take them back. He wants to swallow them down so they can’t hurt anyone but himself. Because Ilya…Ilya flinches. “What.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,127
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #79824491