181 – 200 of 209 Works in anonymous
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“I was thinking about the honeymoon phase thing.”
“Yes?” Ilya said.
“I think it’s different for us. I don’t want us to be all blissful and then only start fighting when we’re back to barely seeing each other. I think it’s good if we figure things out now, when we have the time. Whatever needs figuring out. So we have a solid foundation going into the season. Sort of like training camp.”
“So this means you will keep getting mad at me for things,” Ilya said.
Shane smiled, rolled his eyes. “Yeah, exactly,” he said.
“Good, I find it very hot,” Ilya said, and kissed him.An insecure over-thinker and a self-destructive thrill-seeker walk into a relationship.
- Part 6 of perfect from now on
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 24,387
- Chapters:
- 5/5
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76807326
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Ilya's birthday present with Shane pregnant and on his knees - let's just say best birthday ever.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,757
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76993776
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Picture this, Ilya wants to tell the naysayers and the haters, the pearl-clutchers and the busy-bodies. A cold, late afternoon in Ottawa during the throes of a winter hockey season. A warm, cozy two-story home in Rockcliffe Park, snowed-in with a tendril of smoke coming out of the chimney. Shane Hollander, hockey-playing god in human form and the dearest love of Ilya’s mortal life, bent over a dining table covered in pristine hockey cards of themselves while Ilya fucked into him from behind. Ilya and Shane have a combined 800 hockey cards to autograph. Shane wants to get the job done. Ilya has other ideas (and an unexpected use for that permanent marker).
- Part 3 of hollanov in every verse
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,426
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77031691
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“You are offending an invalid.” “You’re not an invalid,” Shane replies, slight exasperation bleeding into his voice. There’s probably panic in it, too. He elects not to think about it. “You’ll be fine. You’ll go to rehab, you’ll play, and the plan will stay intact. Okay? Charity, Ottawa, and us.” “Charity, Ottawa, and us,” Ilya repeats dutifully, head lolling on the pillow so he can get a better look at Shane’s face. The repetition soothes something in him. They are words that Shane has repeated enough that the edges have been smoothed into something blunt. Charity, Ottawa, and us. “Sit, Shane.” or: early into the year where they both still play for their respective teams, ilya suffers a crash on the ice
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,761
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76951336
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Ilya Rozanov ☑ @ilyarozanov81 hockey players always say they are so grateful for fans. well, for valentine’s month I will put my mouth where my money is. you are welcome in advance Harris ☑ @centaursharris @ilyarozanov81 I’m afraid to ask. Also, it’s put your MONEY where your MOUTH is. Ilya Rozanov ☑ @ilyarozanov81 @centaursharris eh in this case I think my version is more accurate -- Or: a hybrid social media fic in which Ilya decides to spread the love amongst hockey RPF fans.
- Part 3 of my anonymous heated rivalry fic
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,116
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76965766
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There had to be a light at the end of this tunnel for Shane. If there wasn’t he was going to carve one out with his bare hands. This whole being pregnant thing had gone on far past the point of being fun— though like it wasn't exactly fun when their daughter had decided to start lodging her tiny feet in his ribs and wanted to make his bladder her personal launch pad. All that to say, Shane was done. He was going to get this baby out one way or another and Ilya was going to get promoted to his newest elite employee in the process of it all.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,754
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76684401
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Shane starts a letterboxed. Ilya does too, for some reason. From godzllas on twt: hollanov fic where someone forces shane to get letterboxd and fans start questioning what is going on bc ilya and shane keep logging the same movies
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,146
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76736296
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“I missed you,” Shane's voice was soft, vulnerable, as he held the other closer to him. “I missed you a lot, Ilya.” “You mean you miss playing hockey with me?" Ilya's voice sounded teasing, but Shane shook his head in response. “Well, that, too, but mostly you. Just you.” Or, Shane is injured and Ilya takes care of him
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,384
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76736411
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“What is this ‘ball and chain’?” Ilya frowned. Ilya's teammate grinned. “Wife. Girlfriend. Nagging you. Controlling. No fun allowed.”
- Part 1 of cobblestone (hollanov fics)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,964
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76712676
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It started out as something small, just an idea after reading a bedtime story about some bears making a lemonade stand. Sofia was absolutely enthralled with the idea. It was all their four year old could talk about. She probably yapped about it in her sleep to be honest it was just something she wanted to do and the idea to make a stand and put it at the rink during the week long camp to raise money for the foundation was too cute to say no to. Or the one where Shane and Ilya have a little entrepreneur
- Part 4 of hollanov parenthood adventure ✨
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,593
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76538181
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“Well, if it’s not too much trouble,” Shane begins, offering his cell phone to one of Santa’s helpers who remains on standby. “Can I—can we get a couple of photos with you?” “Oh, but of course,” Santa cheers happily, clasping both gloved hands together as Shane moves to sit on his left thigh. “I would be honoured to snap a photo with the Shane Hollander.” Ilya, on the other hand, nearly goes into cardiac arrest. It's days after Christmas and Santa Claus is still working dutifully at the mall. There's just one problem, though: Ilya Rozanov is fully convinced that Santa Claus wants his man. It’s been a little over five months since Shane and Ilya have been official, and it’s almost inconceivable how... easy it has been for them. Opposites attract. Soulmates. Ilya has always believed those two sentiments were rather cliché, terribly intangible things, pathetic worldviews that took shape entirely from skewed perceptions and damn-near daunting desperation; but now that he’s living it—now that he’s nothing more than a walking testimony, it would be foolish of him to deny the harsh truths that manage to dismantle the solidity of his nervous system every day. Truthfully, it can be described as a puzzle piece that fits perfectly—two kindred souls that were fated to meet, destined to be in each other’s lives, their union that was seemingly written among the stars above. And here Ilya’s kindred soul stands before him—a bashful smile tugs at Shane’s lips as he raises a hand to press a wrinkle from the lapel, a palm smoothing over the material before he adjusts the article of clothing that hugs his body just right. But there’s just one thing that Ilya cannot ignore. He feels the warmth against his palm and cocks his head to the side, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I thought you said you hired a stylist, Hollander?” The implication cuts through the air like a knife, the sharpened edge of it aimed straight for Shane’s jugular— —but it all comes from a place of love, of course. There’s something about the fashion choices themselves (yes, plural) that Ilya cannot get behind. Shane slowly spins, as if he’s giving Ilya a chance to get a good fucking look at him, as if he’s allowing Ilya to recognise his greatness and to take back what he said. Come on, look at me! Shane’s eyes seem to say, glinting with offence that Ilya refuses to take seriously. Why would I need my damn stylist? “Uh? I did?” Shane huffs, throwing both hands up in mild exasperation. “They’re—I gave them two weeks off for—for obvious reasons. It’s the holiday season, and I don’t have anything important going on. Why?” ‘Why, he asks. Ilya closes his eyes. Opens them. Then closes them again. This is going to be a long day. “Two weeks off, huh?” Ilya sighs, nursing his cup of hot chocolate. “Of course you did.” Shane raises an eyebrow. “What? You don’t like it?” The outfit in question... well. Ilya glances at the baby blue wide-leg slacks that Shane somehow deemed appropriate for the occasion and frowns visibly, grunting with a shake of his head. He lifts his gaze to the white dress shirt that’s been buttoned all the way to the top, the crocheted, dark grey scarf around his neck and the beige blazer that, arguably, fits him well—but that’s about it. The colour of the material leaves much to be desired. As does everything else. “Ah, don’t worry, Shane,” is what Ilya settles on. “It is endearing, rather than. Stylish. Or interesting.” Shane appears to be mildly horrified. “Endearing.” “Yes, endearing,” Ilya affirms, leaning to the side to place his cup on the surface of the end table. “You look like a twelve-year-old going to a uh—a school dance or something. Trying to impress friends and all that. Or perhaps... trying to impress a crush. So, yes—I think it’s endearing.” Shane frowns. “Rozanov.” “Ilya,” he corrects him firmly, knowing full well that Shane has a tendency of calling him by his last name when he has decided that he’s annoyed with him. Ilya swallows around the lump in his throat, watching as Shane swiftly swaps his horrid fashion choices with his sponsored Lululemon set that does very little to combat the harsh wintry chill on the outside. “Where are you going?” “Where do you think?” Shane snaps, grabbing his wallet on the countertop. “I’m going to the mall.” “The mall?” Ilya asks, puzzled. He takes a step closer and shoves both hands in the pockets of his joggers. “It is colder than Grandfather Frost’s ass crack outside. Why are you going to the mall?” Shane slowly turns to look at him. “What do you mean by why? You just insulted the clothes I was planning on wearing to dinner with my parents tomorrow,” Shane speaks through gritted teeth, gesturing to the clothes that have been tossed carelessly on the cushion of the sectional. He couldn’t even be bothered to fold them—that’s how Ilya knows he’s pissed off. “I need something else to wear, obviously.” The room falls silent.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,735
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76544676
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“Board games,” Ilya said, kneeing them higher up his chest. Shane stared at him. “You travel with those?” he asked, trying to go for scathing. It never quite got there. He didn’t have Ilya’s skill. Ilya smiled wide and shark-like. “No,” he said. “I got them from Emily. Mrs. Lansow.” Shane felt even more baffled. “The owner of the hotel,” Ilya said. “I know,” Shane said. He just couldn’t imagine Ilya interacting with that sweet woman. Or her asking him to call her by her first name. “Why? I mean, why did you get them?” “You have better things to do?” Ilya asked. “I have a phone. And a laptop. And there’s a television,” Shane said. Ilya squinted dismissively. “Screen is bad. Melts your brain.” “You sound like my mom,” Shane said, a little softer than he intended and smiling reluctantly. Ilya tilted his head. “This does it for you?” Shane and Ilya learn what it's like spending time together with their clothes still on.
- Part 1 of perfect from now on
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 12,344
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76527896
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Shane accidentally steals Ilya’s jacket. And he just decides to... not give it back.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,322
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76487776
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The bright red on the ice was something as a player it could be easy to become accustomed to but this was different. This was his pup's blood on the ice. Or; The time that Shane and Ilya had to experience their baby getting hurt for the first time.
- Part 3 of hollanov parenthood adventure ✨
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,204
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76316951
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Ilya drives Yuna to an appointment. He’s spent maybe five minutes with her alone and is stressed about making a decent impression. — “My parents live in Ottawa-Ottawa, but there are suburbs that are kind of in Ottawa and kind of not. Don’t worry, it’s not that confusing.” The thing is, it is that confusing.
- Part 2 of the ottawa-verse
- Part 2 of anon hr fics
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,598
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76296286
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Ilya wants to throw up. He thinks about someone else—a stranger—with his hands on Shane, unmaking him in the same way Ilya does, someone else getting to hear Shane’s little sounds and moans, getting to watch him fall apart, getting to be inside him. Ilya is hit with a devastation that nearly topples him over.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,391
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76291416
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Shane sub drops and texts Ilya the "we didn't even kiss" and then Ilya helps him :)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,232
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76301471
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Like with everything, on the ice it was simple—he wanted to win, he wanted to beat Ilya. He was his fiercest competitor and his equal. Off the ice, that faded away—for him, at least. Ilya always saw him as an equal, even when they were too young and dumb to admit it. But for Shane, when the skates were off and cotton sheets were beneath him, he didn’t want to be Ilya’s equal. He wanted to belong to him. It was why the briefest touch was enough to make him fall to his knees. It was why he’d beg just to see his cock—to touch it—to taste it. Desperate to take anything Ilya would give him, and too shy to ask for it. Because what right did he have to ask Ilya Rozanov for anything? No, he had to earn it with his words and tears and tongue. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
- Part 1 of Twenty Questions
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,171
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76250321
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“Is not my fault!” Ilya insists. “I had to do it. There was a squirrel.” Shane’s mouth falls open. “A squirrel?” he demands, disbelieving. “You risked your life for a squirrel?” Or: five times Shane saw Ilya with blood on him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,846
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76268366
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Shane's concussion recovery is pretty clear: nothing too strenuous, nothing that will up his blood pressure, and nothing that will make him too excited. This leaves certain... gaps... in his normal routine. (In which Shane is horny and Ilya is trying his best.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,694
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76191201