141 – 151 of 151 Works in One Shot
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"Something… happened at lunch." That was surprisingly ominous, even for Ilya. Shane was immediately freaking out. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Shane's mind immediately went to very dark places. Someone got traded. Someone was seriously injured. Someone was dead. He tried to keep his voice even as he said, "Okay." "I don't–" Ilya's face crumpled as he knelt on the floor in front of Shane. "I'm so sorry." Okay. This was an Ilya thing. Oh god. Shane couldn't stop the spiral. One of them was getting traded. Or their sex tape had been leaked. Or he was dying. Or– "I think I have a kid." Or, Ilya had a kid with a one-night stand. Shane handles this a whole lot better than anyone (even himself) expected.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,381
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75519201
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Yuna and David reach out to Ilya in the aftermath of the Centaurs' emergency landing.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,592
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76058681
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The Annoying Best Friend of My Husband is My Enemy? by broidkwhatimdoing
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-19
Ilya gets in a fight during a game with Boston. It's not for the reason anyone expects.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,752
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76000436
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Ilya Rozanov forgets to take his Zoloft, god the pain. Shane cares for him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,202
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75869271
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Two Is Better Than One by ItsSoLine
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-15
Montreal's loss is always Boston's win. Or What if Shane and Ilya get outed when Shane is injured on ice and while Montreal may be ready to let their star player go, Boston is not. And if they gain a second one... well two is better than one.
- Part 1 of Boston Boyfriends
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,515
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75803676
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While watching Heated Rivalry, it occurred to me to wonder: why does every man we see strip on the show have the same underwear? This clearly needed to be explored.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,240
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75696151
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The Ilya Rozanov Exposé by nineteenohtwo
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-04
Perez Hilton ✅ @PerezHilton Viral: Married "gay" hockey star Ilya Rozanov caught IN PUBLIC sexting mystery woman. WITH RECEIPTS!
- Part 3 of Hit Post
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,888
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75235406
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“So, why is she arresting people?” “It's sex innuendos, love” “Oh.” OR Ilya and Shane go to Sabrina Carpenter's Short & Sweet Tour, get arrested and find out what Juno pose they're doing tonight.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,535
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #74528776
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The Crowell Tapes by nineteenohtwo
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-11-15
ESPN ✅ @espn NHL Commissioner Roger Crowell under fire after audio of him reprimanding @OttawaCentaurs players Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander over controversial coming out leaks online
- Part 1 of Hit Post
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,081
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #74219956
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Shane once told himself it was purely strategic, that Ilya was his greatest adversary on the ice and that his obsession was borne of his killer competitive instinct. Now he knew better. Shane could be battling for the Stanley Cup and in that room full of people he would look for Ilya. Always and against his better judgement. Shane wandered into the communal showers and peeled off the undershirt that stuck to his body like a sweaty second skin. His teammates milled around him with the pleasant hum of a victory in the air. Even naked under the stream of the shower heads, they swatted at each other and horsed around. Shane stuck to his corner and ignored the merrymaking. He had a reputation for being a bit of a wet blanket but he could not begrudge his team the celebrating this time. He of all people knew there were few better feelings than trouncing Boston. Every game against Rozanov went something like this. The rink was charged with electricity before they even set foot on the ice. By the time they were facing off the feeling was overwhelming. Small forms of release would come in body checks and stolen pucks, in thrusting each other against the boards, in assists and goals. At some point around the second period they would start to lose sight of anyone but each other. Shane once told himself it was purely strategic, that Ilya was his greatest adversary on the ice and that his obsession was borne of his killer competitive instinct. Now he knew better. Shane was looking for Ilya because not a single person in the arena of screaming fans mattered. Shane could be battling for the Stanley Cup and in that room full of people he would look for Ilya. Always and against his better judgement. This game had became a two person test of wills, a stubborn and begrudging negotiation of who would come out on top that night. They hated to lose about as much as they loved to fuck each other. And that energy would inevitably follow them into locker room as they quickly moved through the post game rituals. Shane was almost shocked his teammates could not feel it, that he and Ilya orbited each other. The press conferences were torture. It was one of the rare times he and Ilya got to exist together in public without skates on. But there were cameras everywhere and questions designed to instigate barbs that would end up in headlines or on Twitter. “Shane, you have played against Rozanov for five seasons. Talk to us about that. What does it take to beat someone with his agility and strength?” Or “Ilya, Hollander’s backhand conversion at the end of the second period looked an awful lot like one of your signature moves. What do you have to say to that?” Ilya loved when the press leaned into their rivalry. He would give taciturn one word answers or wink to the camera with his signature grin. He rarely if ever made eye contact with Shane. Their feet would tap against each other occasionally, but beyond that they were focused on the mics and cameras in their faces, as if they were two unruly specimens behind a wall of glass. Finally they were back with their teammates and at the part of the night where they made their inevitable excuses about why they could not go out that night to celebrate their victory or bemoan their loss. A festering injury. A previous bad night of sleep. A far off girl who wanted to FaceTime. And each time their teammates would accept it with teases and exasperated shrugs. Now they were off to the race. Sprinting to Ilya’s penthouse or Shane’s empty apartment, where every minute to midnight felt like running through water or dancing on a knife’s edge, equal parts exhausting and excruciating. This night it was Shane who burst into Ilya’s apartment and into his arms. They were on each other as the door shut, wrestling for the upper hand as if this was the real conclusion to their on ice spars, a final wrestle that had them at each others throats and hip to hip. Ilya practically consumed Shane’s mouth. His tongue delved into him like he had hadn’t had a drink of water for days. “Shh,” Ilya mumbled thickly as Shane whined into his mouth. “I know. I will not let you out of my sight.” They had until noon of next day, when Shane’s team would make their way to the airport and back to Montreal. Getting a proper morning was a real treat for Shane and Ilya, and one they never squandered. Ilya spent the first two hours taking Shane apart in every way possible. First with his hands as he gripped their shafts tightly against one another. Next on his knees with Shane’s cock in his mouth. Then with his length buried into Shane and his balls slapping wildly as he piled into him from behind. And then with Shane riding Ilya as Ilya held his impossible large hands to his hips in the way that Shane loved, that made him feel somehow feminine and so obviously a man, the sharply sculpted lines of his abdominals moving as he rode Ilya’s cock. It was usually here, where Ilya had a perfect view of Shane’s wanton and blown out eyes, that he couldn’t hold back his commentary, often in Russian, a language that Shane had slowly begun to understand. In Russian, “you are so beautiful. Taking me like you could do it forever, like this is all you want.” Shame let out a diabolically low moan, one that sounded as if he were in pain. He arched his back as he took Ilya even deeper inside him, frantically riding him as his muscular thighs drove himself up and down. This was nirvana. He felt a level of transcendence here that he only came close to feeling when he completed a perfect assist or slotted in the winning goal in a playoff game. Sex and hockey. He was fastidious in both. Athletic, quietly but consistently skilled, aiming to please. Shane came first, pulling Ilya in with him. He loved the feeling of Ilya’s warm release filling him. And the panting the came after. And him leaning forward to let Ilya’s softening cock pull out. And the feeling of his come running down Shane, gushing out in a way that made him stumble to the bathroom with a mumble and a promise to be back over the bark of Ilya’s laughter.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,487
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #71515466
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Delicious BBQ (Bathroom Blowjob Quickie) by bubbleomatic
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-09-29
Ilya wasn’t sure what turned him on more: being accepted and loved unconditionally by the Hollanders, or seeing Shane dripping wet and glistening in the summer sun. Whatever the reason was, he needed to get Shane alone. And fast.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,613
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #71066641
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