241 – 260 of 275 Works in Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics
- Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics ×
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Shane has always been a soft Alpha, but all the years he spent sleeping with Ilya, a dominant Alpha, unknowingly caused his body to change, turning him into an Omega. He doesn’t know how to feel about it; he doesn’t mind, but surely Ilya won’t want to be with an Omega when all he’s ever been with are Alphas. Or, Shane is now an Omega and hides it because he’s worried Ilya won’t want him anymore, but what he doesn’t know is that Ilya loves him for him, and it’s not going to change anything. It had been a month since Shane last saw Ilya, and then he started noticing small changes in his body. He didn’t think too much of it at the time, but it was strange. He had started smelling sweeter, and the scent of his Alpha teammates had become more noticeable—not repulsive, but stronger, and at times overwhelming. Sure, that never happened before, but he had been stressed lately; more so because he seemed to have been missing Ilya more than normal. Anyway, nothing new didn’t happen for a long time, at least until last week when his stomach started cramping out of the blue in the most achingly painful way imaginable. He knew then it was time to see his doctor, but he had forgotten to make an appointment, and when he remembered, he needed to wait another two weeks due to unavailability. It was fine; he could wait. The pain wasn’t persistent; it came and went, and somehow always made him feel the need for sex. He tried to convince himself he was probably just going into a Rut, but it never came in hot flashes, and pain that caused him to double over. It wasn’t when his teammates joked about how he’d been sweating all over the place despite spending time on ice, and how flushed he’d gotten in the face like an Omega in Heat, did Shane realized something was definitely wrong, and barged into his doctor’s office, desperately in need of answers. They did several tests, and then it was confirmed: Shane Hollander, an Alpha by birth, was now transitioning into an Omega. The change in his scent, the sweating, the pain, and the harrowing need to see Ilya, an Alpha, his Alpha, he was preparing to go into his first Heat. It was safe to say, he didn’t take the news well. How could this have been possible? He had never heard of an Alpha turning into an Omega. It made no sense. To his doctor, it made perfect sense. There was only one way an Alpha could’ve turned into an Omega; it was rare but not unheard of. Shane might’ve been an Alpha, but he was a soft Alpha—it was no secret to anyone, and it was why he got along with almost everyone. However, if he was sleeping with a dominant Alpha, over time, his body would change to accommodate said Alpha. This was just his body's way of saying he wanted Ilya to be his Alpha, his mate. He should feel happy. They could be together; truly be together. Ilya could mark him permanently—he had always hoped for it, but Alphas couldn’t mark each other; it just wouldn’t stay. But… Ilya favored Alphas over Omegas; it was why he liked Shane so much. Surely, now there wouldn’t be a reason for him to stay; surely he would leave. Shane didn’t know how to feel about it; it was best to keep this a secret. ___________________ It had been a month of minor inconvenience, avoiding going to practice, and completely ignoring all of Ilya’s calls and texts, afraid the Alpha would know and reject him, before Shane’s first Heat finally arrived. It took reasonably longer since he was transitioning from an Alpha to an Omega, but it still took him by surprise when he woke up this morning, burning up, caked in sweat, and with a deep, penetrating ache in his stomach and lower back that made him slumped back into bed, panting and crying into the sheets for the Alpha he had been so desperately trying to avoid for the past month. The whole room smelt like an Omega; it was all-consuming and stifling, and drenched in darkness except for the yellow night lamp in the corner. Shane gasped and whimpered when a sudden, painful flare pierced through his lower stomach and all the way to his cock. It had been ten hours since this god-awful Heat started. It was already night, he was naked, trying to ride it out as best as he could, but he couldn’t do this anymore. He was dying—surely. How would he survive another three days of this? He had jerked himself off at least four times, but it wasn’t enough. He needed an Alpha’s knot; he needed Ilya, and regretted not telling the other man. Maybe Ilya wouldn’t have rejected him on the spot if he begged the Alpha to stay. The bed had long been soaked with his slick, something his body never produced before. He had tried touching himself there, but it wasn’t enough—nothing was ever enough! Maybe— “Fuck,” he whined the second he gripped his aching, stiff, and leaking cock in his hand. It was too much—the sensation nearly blinded him, but not in comfort, but hellbent pain. “Ilya. Ilya… I can’t—” “Shane?! Open the door.” That voice, followed by a loud, thundering knock on the bedroom door. It was Ilya. How did the Alpha find him? And how the fuck did he get into the house? There was no one home. Shane’s mind cleared just enough for him to start panicking again. What would Ilya say once he found out that Shane had turned into an Omega? He didn’t think he could handle a rejection, not now—not ever. No. He needed to get out of there. But where would he go? He couldn’t move three feet without falling over in pain. Shane gasped, his fingers squeezing, twisting into the sheets as he struggled to lift himself off the bed, and was unable to do so. “Hollander!” Ilya yelled, his voice deep and thundering. “Open the fucking door before I break it down! Now!” Ilya sounded very much like an angry Alpha. Why was he angry? Did Shane do something to anger him? He whimpered at the thought; tears suddenly clouded his eyes. He didn’t… oh, right. He had been avoiding Ilya. But why was he being so demanding?
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- English
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- 3,312
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75999731
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Shane Hollander's heat came unexpectedly early. He begs Ilya to come and help him. Ilya does. The game that fateful day was a special dynamic one. Shane Hollander had his mind focused on one thing - winning. Well, maybe not only that. Because the presence of Ilya Rozanov was like a heavy bag on his shoulders, pressing him down and making it harder to focus. Every time they crossed paths on the ice, the heavy scent of the Russian man filled his nostrils, making him slip up with his game. "Focus, Hollander!" yelled his teammate, right when Shane's gaze locked on Ilya's back. He shook his head, trying to shake off the uncontrollable need to be close to the man on whose cock he had been stretched so many times. But the game was a more pressing matter now, and he needed to act like it. So he tried his best. His team was on a good path to victory, and he himself managed to score two goals in the three periods - even though his mind was in a completely different place. But then, he felt it. That hot chill, sweat pouring across his face, his stomach twisting - his heat was coming in a very short timeline, much quicker than it should be. He knew it shouldn't be happening. Just before the game, he checked his app for tracking his cycle, and it was supposed to come in three days, not today. Not now. That was enough to make him absolutely terrible, giving Boston a great opportunity to get an upper hand over them. Their rivals managed to win, with two more goals scored, the game ending and sealing Montreal's unfortunate fate. "What the fuck was that, man?! Why were you so distracted, for God's sake?!" His team was furious with him, but he couldn't afford to stay and argue with them. He knew he didn't have a lot of time, so he changed as fast as he could, and basically flew out of that locker room, rushing to get to his hotel room. When Shane managed to finally open the door with his shaky hands, he collapsed on the floor, his legs weak from the overwhelming feeling. He wanted to crawl out of his skin - he was that hot. He quickly tore off his clothes, leaving them scattered across the room's floor. Shane barely had the strength to crawl into his bed, but when he did, he collapsed on the soft hotel sheets, sighing with somewhat of a relief. He still very much felt like shit, like he was about to melt from the heat that surrounded him. If it stayed like this, he would manage it alone. But he knew his body too well - more was coming, and it would come in the most unexpected moment, making him so desperate to feel something inside him that he would do something he normally wouldn't - he's going to beg that motherfucker. Shane knew he should destroy his phone before he reached that state, because then, any restraint and shame would leave him, and he would indeed beg Rozanov to come and fuck him into oblivion. But he didn't have more time to debate on it, because the overwhelming feeling had come. He moaned, his ass arching in the air without his consent, his legs spreading, his instincts screaming for a knot. His hand reached for his phone, and he did what he shouldn't. Jane: 708. Now. Please. He wrote and collapsed on the sheets again. He shifted, turning on his back, his hand reaching for the aching hole that was now leaking slick like crazy. As soon as he touched it, his mouth opened, and a loud moan escaped his lips. His legs parted as far as possible to ease himhis access for pleasure that he needed so much at that moment. "Fuuuck... Rozanov, please..." Shane begged, his finger slipping inside, slowly stretching himself for what was hopefully going to come. He knew he'd need that stretching, his mind going back a few months when he last saw the massive cock of the Russian man. He wanted that nine inches like a lifeline, desperate for the feeling of being completely full with the warm cock, for the part when it swells even more, and seals them together. But Rozanov never gave him that satisfaction unfortunately, because, as he put it, 'I don't want to knock you up, Hollander'. But now, Shane wanted nothing more than exactly that. He wanted his belly to swell with the pup of his rival, to be caressed and cared for by the usually nonchalant man, to be loved. But, oh, his dreams were impossible, and he knew it. Shane added another finger, trying to reach where only Ilya could, and groaned with frustration when he failed. He arched his back, fucking himself with his fingers, trying to imagine Rozanov being the one on top of him, pressing him to the mattress, making him come one time after another. "Fuck, Ilya!" he cried out, not even noticing that he had used the name of the man. He was too deep in his fantasy to register the real Ilya walking through the door, closing it, and making sure it was locked. "Oh, fuck, fuck me harder, please! Rozanov, fuuck!" Rozanov rested his back on the door, enjoying the sight in front of him. As soon as he relaxed, smirking satisfied, the sweet smell hit him, making his nonchalant posture crumble, as his instincts screamed to go and put his knot in the omega on the bed. But he managed to contain himself, instead undressing, while Shane was still in his own fantasy. "Fuck, fuck, fuck... AHH, Rozanov!" Shane screamed out, as his cock shot out a thick stream of cum on his stomach, his arch deepening, his other hand curling deeply with the sheets. "I must say I enjoy show, Hollander," Ilya finally spoke up, revealing himself to Shane, who got scared so much that he almost jumped off the bed. "Oh, do not be shy now. You put me a great show, really." "Fuck, Rozanov!" Shane cursed, his face getting even redder than before from his heat. "Couldn't you announce yourself louder when you walked through the door? Must you be such an asshole?!" he complained, sitting up and covering his dick with his hands.
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- AO3:
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Ilya’s eyebrows rose at that, “Oh, my little omega, aren’t you supposed to be good for me?” He lowered to his elbows, licking his way down Shane’s chest, before hooking his fingers gently in the fabric of his underwear, “Don’t you want to be good for me, sweetheart?” Shane’s heart, his body, was fracturing. He was splitting into a million pieces every place Ilya’s tongue, hands, and breath touched him. He was falling, falling, falling; he felt like a powder keg. “Look at me, moya zhizn'.” And with that, he burst into flames. OR... Shane loses his suppressants and what can he do except call Rozy !
- Part 1 of the omegashane agenda
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- English
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- 2,647
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- AO3:
- #75961576
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Ilya has claimed so many of Shane’s firsts - his first kiss with a man, his first time doing any act with a man. Turning down Shane’s first heat is unimaginable. He doesn’t want to wait for an imaginary future. They have two weeks alone. He has to have this, even if it’s a terrible idea. It has to be him.
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- AO3:
- #75953666
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Such a lovable lamb by DaughterofLegends
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-18
Two certainties defined Shane Hollander's life: he was falling in love with Ilya Rozanov, and he was keeping a career-ending secret. When Ilya discovers Shane's suppressants on the heels of seeing Shane injured during a game, fear makes them say things they both regret. Nine months later at the All-Star Game, accidentally running into Ilya in the hotel elevator triggers a breakthrough heat—forcing the two idiots to finally talk (and fuck). -- Contains spoilers for those who have only watched the show, and for The Long Game. A/B/O AU that diverges from canon right after Shane is injured in Chapter 21 (and episode 5) of Heated Rivalry. Happy ending!
- Part 1 of Lying to the NHL, but make it A/B/O
- Part 2 of Fighting Puritanism, one smutty Hollanov AU at a time
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- English
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- 6,374
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- 1/1
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- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75971231
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“I always want to be fucking you,” Ilya continued as he pressed a finger deep into Shane. “It has taken over my brain. My life. When I am not with you, I am thinking of you.” He added another finger easily, pushing deep. “If I could have my way, you would never wear clothes again. You would simply recline on a throne of furs and softness, where I would fuck you at your leisure.” Or: Pregnant omega Shane is feeling insecure about his expanding body. Ilya will make him feel better.
- Part 2 of "Yes, sweetheart."
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- English
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- AO3:
- #75931201
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dirty little secret by contrapposto
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-17
“Oh, Hollander,” Ilya sighed, cradling Shane’s face, thumbs gently stroking his freckled cheeks. “You are omega.” It wasn’t a question. Shane nodded pathetically, breathing heavily. “And you are in heat, yes?” One curious hand trailed down, squeezing hard. Biting back a moan at the slick pooling in his boxers, Shane nodded. “I forgot my suppressants,” he said, breathless. “I— I usually just take suppressants all season and then… deal with it myself the rest of the time. But I guess I forgot to pack them. I don’t know what to do.” --- Ilya helps Shane through an unexpected heat.
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- English
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- AO3:
- #75903826
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be sweet to me, baby by thebeautifulgame (crying2mitski)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-17
“Of course I’m playing,” Shane retorts, any bite in it undermined by his lack of eye contact and the pink flush steadily blooming on his freckled cheeks, “why wouldn’t I?” Ilya scoffs incredulously, lowers his voice so his words go undetected by the referee, “They let you start game, smelling like you need a knot.”
- Part 1 of the first taste (hollanov stand-alones)
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- English
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- AO3:
- #75906081
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shane hollander is pretty sure he’s pregnant.
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- English
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- 14,453
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- AO3:
- #75895576
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i think he fell in love (he said he trust me with his life) by meltinggoose
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-17
Fuck, he would dose that scent if he could- lick it off of Shane’s lips and neck like good Russian vodka ---- Scott's words on the ice trigger Shane's first heat.
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- AO3:
- #75536746
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“I finally figured out what that sweet smell here is that I never get from ice creams, no matter how many flavours I try” Shane’s hands stilled on the counter. The shop felt suddenly too quiet, the hum of the freezer loud in his ears. “It’s you,” Ilya said softly.
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- English
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75876141
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coming undone, sweetheart by lizee
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-16
“Hollander,” Ilya said, voice a low growl, “you, fuck, you smell so...why would you come here? Like this?” Ilya was gripping his arms and Shane nearly let out a whine at the contact. He almost forgot how much he craved touch, how good it felt to be touched by him. Almost. Fuck, Ilya smelled so good. He closed his eyes again and inhaled, resisting the urge to touch his forehead to Ilya’s. To strip right here and let everyone in this club watch as Ilya took him, fucked him right here when he’s wet and willing and wanting. “Like what?” he forced out, realizing he needed to give a response. “Like you’re in fucking heat, Hollander,” Ilya hissed through his teeth, pressing a hand into Shane’s chest and pushing him a little. Or, the club scene from episode 4 but omegaverse.
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- AO3:
- #75846376
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The test very confidently displayed a positive result. Well—this test and the three others he’d taken just to be sure. He’d used the basic drug store one that showed only a plus sign, as well as the fancier ones with words and estimates of how far along you were. All of them were screaming at him, in unison, the words he hadn’t wanted to hear. They echoed the thought that he’d been desperately trying to ignore despite the symptoms he’d been having for the past two weeks. Shane Hollander was pregnant.
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- English
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- 3,851
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75798896
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Magic In My Soul by OikawaHajime13
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-14
While recovering from season-ending surgery, Shane unexpectedly goes into heat. Thankfully, his alpha is there to help him...which leads to an unintended repercussion.
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- English
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- 14,022
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- 3/3
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75733626
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You don’t need to touch me to unravel everything inside me by amy_prm
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-14
Shane Hollander is an omega, and no one should know about it, considering it could cost him his ice hockey career. He’s taking his suppressants and it seems to be working great, but Shane notices a change in biology whenever he encounters Ilya Rozanov.
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- English
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- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75605136
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but I am a good dog running halfway home by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-13
The morning after Shane's heat breaks, he wakes up in an empty bed with a deep, throbbing mark on his neck and a text on his phone from Ilya that says, I am sorry. We should break the bond. Or, a bite in Vegas ruins everything, for a while.
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- English
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75345861
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The words start spilling out faster than he can think them, a desperate spew of apologies and half-explanations through ragged gasps, vision blurry at the edges. “I swear, I didn’t know. I would have told you, I wouldn’t have—” Shane cuts himself off with a sob. “With my suppressants, I shouldn’t even be able to get—” “You are pregnant,” Ilya says, his dark eyes unreadable. Shane just closes his eyes. “I was.” An alternate version of Shane's accident on the ice.
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- English
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- 2,065
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75707846
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After a high-pressure game, Shane Hollander is a live wire of anxious perfectionism, desperately insisting he's "fine." Ilya Rozanov knows better. He can smell the oncoming omega crash. When Shane's brittle control finally shatters, Ilya must use every ounce of his firm, grounding alpha presence to guide his omega through the collapse—from frantic resistance, to overwhelming relief, and finally, into the safe, quiet space of total submission and praise. (Or: The one where Shane falls apart, and Ilya is there to catch him.) Collapse Into Me __________________ The hotel room door clicked shut behind them, sealing out the roar of the arena, the flash of cameras, the echoing chants of both their names. Shane’s name had been chanted louder tonight. He’d been perfect. Flawless. A machine on the ice. And now, inside the quiet, opulent suite, he was methodically coming apart at the seams. Ilya watched him from the doorway, his own gear bag dropping to the floor with a soft thud. Shane had already marched across the living room, his movements sharp and economical. He placed his own bag by the closet with military precision, toeing it into a perfect parallel line with the wall. He shrugged out of his tailored dress jacket, folded it once, and laid it over the back of an armchair. His tie came next, the silk whispering as he pulled it loose, but instead of discarding it, he looped it neatly around his knuckles, over and over, a tight, anxious coil . To anyone else, he looked composed. Collected. The consummate professional finishing his post-game routine. But Ilya smelled it. Under the sweat and the sharp, chemical scent of the arena ice, Shane’s omega scent was thin. Wispy. Like burnt sugar and over-steeped tea, pulled too tight until it was about to snap. It was a scent Ilya knew intimately—the prelude to a crash. It was in the air between them, a frantic, fading sweetness that made the back of Ilya’s teeth ache with instinct. “Shane,” Ilya said, his voice deliberately calm. Neutral. He took a single, casual step into the room, not wanting to crowd him yet. “I’m fine,” Shane replied instantly, the words clipped. He didn’t turn around. He began to move, not toward the bedroom or the shower, but in a tight, precise line from the sofa to the window and back. Pacing. His dress shoes made a soft, relentless shush-shush on the carpet. “Just need to wind down. The second period, that turnover by the blue line—it was a misread. I saw Tremblay cutting in, but I thought he’d go wide, and if I’d just pivoted half a second sooner, taken the inside lane instead of committing to the boards—” “It led to a goal,” Ilya finished for him, staying where he was, leaning against the wall by the door. He kept his body loose, non-threatening. He unbuttoned his own cuffs, rolling his sleeves up slowly, an attempt to project normalcy. “You won, Shane. 4-1. You had two assists. You were the best player on the ice.” “It was a preventable goal,” Shane shot back, his voice tightening, rising a half-octave. The pacing quickened. Six steps to the window, a sharp pivot, six steps back. His hands flexed at his sides, the coiled tie cutting into his palm. “A stupid, careless— I knew their forecheck pattern. I knew it. I told Hayden to watch for it, I diagrammed it in the locker room. And then I fell for it. Like a rookie. They’ll see that on film. They’ll all see it.” His scent spiked, souring with the acid tang of anxiety. Ilya saw the fine tremor in Shane’s trapped hands before he shoved them into the pockets of his suit pants. He was still in the uniform of the public captain, the tie a little too tight, the crisp white shirt straining across shoulders held in rigid, defensive formation. Every line of him was vibrating with a energy that had nowhere to go but inward, turning toxic. Ilya pushed off the wall. “Come. Shower. The steam will help. We will order food.” He kept his tone practical, a lifeline of simple, physical next steps. “In a minute,” Shane dismissed, veering away from Ilya’s approach as if burned. He ended up at the minibar, staring at its glossy door as if it contained the answers. “I just need to think it through. Map it out. So it doesn’t happen again. If I can see the sequence, where the decision tree branched wrong, I can lock it down.” “You can think in the shower.” Ilya took another step, his voice layering with a gentle alpha rumble, a coaxing note meant to soothe, to pull him gently back from the edge. It had the opposite effect. Shane flinched, actually flinched, and took two rapid steps back, putting the bulk of an armchair between them. His eyes, when they finally flicked to Ilya’s, were wide and glassy with suppressed panic. The beautiful hazel was almost all pupil. “Don’t. Just— don’t, Ilya.” His voice cracked on the name. “I’m fine. I need space. I need to process. I can’t— I can’t think when you’re…” He gestured vaguely at Ilya’s entire presence. The ‘fine’ was a brittle lie, shattering even as he said it. Ilya could see the cracks spreading, a web of fine fractures across the perfect ice of Shane’s composure. Shane’s breathing was all wrong—shallow sips of air that didn’t reach his lungs, the rise and fall of his chest too quick and high. His knuckles were white where he gripped the back of the chair. The beautiful, controlled omega who commanded the ice with a whisper was being devoured from the inside by a frantic, scrambling thing, an animal caught in a trap of its own spinning thoughts. Ilya’s own instincts, usually kept on a firm, civilized leash, began to stir and then rise. A low- grade alarm pulsed through him, syncing with his heartbeat. His omega is in distress. He is not safe. He is not grounded. He is hurting himself. The analytical part of his brain, the strategist, concurred coldly: Shane was spiraling, his thoughts looping into a self-flagellating frenzy with no exit. He was seconds from hyperventilating, minutes from a full, shuddering omega crash that would leave him feeling raw, sick, and vulnerable for days. The time for gentle coaxing was over. The time for patient waiting had passed. Shane was too far gone to reach for the lifeline himself. Ilya would have to go in and get him. Ilya shifted. It was subtle, but in the charged, silent room, it was as loud as a thunderclap. He straightened to his full height, rolling his shoulders back, his spine aligning into a posture of pure, unassailable authority. He let his own scent bloom—not an aggressive challenge, but a deep, anchoring, deliberate wave of cedar, old leather, and steady, warm earth. An alpha’s scent of stability. Of claim. Of here, and now, and me. He poured it into the space, a tangible force meant to counter the thin, panicked sweetness choking the air.
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- English
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- 4,409
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- 1
- AO3:
- #75628616
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I love you over and over again by azraelriego
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-11
Shane Hollander loves two things: hockey and his infuriatingly clingy husband. When Ilya slams into an unexpected rut on the ice, Shane’s the only one who can get him home before things turn feral. What starts as a very intense, very ill-timed rut turns into late-night guilt, broken pride, and an impossible wish for a family Shane will never be able to carry— until a specialist, an ultrasound, and a tiny heartbeat say otherwise.
- Part 1 of I love you over and over again
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,642
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #75596771
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Clouds for the Unspoken Thoughts by Acinonyx1
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-10
“Is that milk?” Hollander stiffens under his touch, and with his face buried in the pillow and Ilya's cock buried in his ass, murmurs, “No…” Ilya blinks down at the growing wet patch under Hollander's chest. “Oh. Is vodka then?” “Fuck off, Rozanov.” While Ilya struggles with the inner conflicts of his desires, Shane’s body decides on a more physical way of showing his affection.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,211
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75561996