1001 – 1020 of 1,438 Works in Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
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S. and Ivan are matched on Tinder, while they both use fake names for obvious reasons. At the same time Shane Hollander, Montreal Voyageurs captain has to work with an insufferable hockey player Ilya Rozanov, who becomes a nuisance from the first meeting. OR: Enemies in live, lovers at Tinder. But they don't know it, yet.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 21,846
- Chapters:
- 7/7
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76658801
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"Ilya!" Rose smiled when she found him stirring a pot on the stove. "Rose," Ilya was smiling himself and was ready to tell her about his newest Idiot Classmate story. The words died on his tongue when he saw Rose was with someone. This was an unusual development for many reasons, but Ilya couldn't focus on any of them when all he could see was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen in his life. "Ah.... hello," he said instead, and shot Rose a confused looked before turning to the man again. "Hi," he said. or: Ilya, Rose, and Svetlana are roommates and Rose brings Shane home one day. Ilya yearns.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,558
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77051471
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Ilya carries around photos of his adorable family in his wallet and is happy to show them off to anyone who asks, or to anyone he asks and they are forced to say yes.
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- English
- Words:
- 1,424
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77056971
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Faible comme ta mère (Weak, like your mother) by HollowedHypoxia
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
Weak. But this time, instead of his father's voice, it was said in Shane's. Ilya could no longer fight to escape the nightmare that was his mind.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,880
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77052496
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Rose and her friends take Shane after a long week while he's on his off season for a fun night out. Having dealt with a lot of stress between the day-to-day stresses of being managed by his mother and everything going on with Rozanov, he takes them up on his offer. Unfortunately, Rose forgot to take his phone away...
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- English
- Words:
- 6,129
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76909006
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The Devil Wears Rozanov by noedovenest
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
"On the ice, he acted quick. Found the puck fast, moved to the net faster. Years of experience had honed his reflexes into second nature. But here, off the ice, wearing ROZANOV on his back like some doe-eyed puck bunny in the stands, his brain short-circuited completely." Or: Shane accidentally wears Ilya’s shirt into the locker room. “Oh.” Ilya rested his head back on the pillow, looking over at Shane. “So you are the asshole.” A wide smile stayed frozen on Shane’s face. He couldn’t help it. “No, it’s still you.” “No, it’s not me.” Ilya feigned offense, thumb stabbing toward Shane. “You’re the asshole.” He sat up an inch and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Everyone! Shane Hollander is an asshole!” Shane’s grin was starting to hurt his cheeks, his laughter coming easier than it had in months. He gave Ilya a playful shove, sending him tumbling back into the pillows. In an accent that had begun to fade, Ilya added, “I am feeling too good to lose tonight, anyway.” “Oh yeah?” Shane turned onto his side, propped on an elbow. “’Cause I’m feeling pretty good too.” “No shit,” Ilya murmured, sliding a hand beneath the sheets to squeeze Shane’s thigh, spurring an echo of pleasure that still clung to the edges of his mind. Sunlight soaked their bare chests, a rarity when their time together was usually isolated to late nights and unfamiliar hotel rooms. It felt better than Shane was willing to admit. Almost normal. The thought sobered him. In reality, they were both supposed to be on the ice in a few short hours. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, eyes widening. “Shit, Ilya. We’re late.” Ilya’s eyelids had gone heavy, an arm flung over his face. “Hm?” “I need to get back to my hotel for pickup,” Shane hissed, kicking the sheets aside. Behind him, Ilya groaned, long and dramatic. How he’d earned the captaincy with his complete indifference to punctuality baffled Shane. Then again, no one seemed to mind when he kept dragging Boston to victory night after night. It took effort not to marvel at him in those brief moments from the bench, the way he made it all look effortless. Their clothes lay in a heap by the bedroom door. He hadn’t even folded them. Shane scooped up half the pile and tossed it across the room, a pant leg smacking Ilya in the cheek. “Sorry.” “Liar,” Ilya groaned, expression pinched as he slipped free of the sheets and stretched, arms reaching overhead. Shane was already tugging on his sweats, shirt slung over his arm, when he caught sight of Ilya dangling off the edge of the mattress. Light brown curls stood in every direction, a faint sheen still clung to the dip of his spine, a wrinkle pressed into his skin. For a moment, panic gave way to something softer. There were few things he allowed to disrupt his routine, and Ilya had held the top spot since they were eighteen. Shane crossed the room in a few long strides, leaning in to press a firm kiss to his lips. “See you soon, Rozanov.” Ilya’s hand came up, cupping the back of his neck and pulling him closer, deepening it. "Stop trying to distract me,” he murmured against Ilya’s mouth. “Stop trying to leave,” Ilya countered, fingers twisting into Shane’s hair, tugging lightly. It was almost enough to convince Shane to crawl onto his lap and see how quickly they could fit in round two. Or was it three? Shane bit back a sigh. “Tonight?” Ilya’s jaw ticked. “Tonight.” The distance Shane was forced to put between them had grown harder to bear lately, recent confessions weaving new threads into place. He’d ask him soon, about the cottage. Two uninterrupted weeks, no deadlines, no schedules breathing down their necks. Ilya would probably say no. But what if he didn’t? “Go,” Ilya said at last, breaking the kiss. Part of Shane was grateful, because he wasn’t sure he had the willpower to do it himself. The absence of Ilya’s touch settled in immediately, a dull ache that followed him as he turned for the door. There was a mindset Shane liked to settle into before a game, and he was struggling to reach it. It was clouded, inevitably, by the memory of Ilya’s hands roaming over bare skin, teeth at his neck, the way he’d murmured filthy encouragement as they found their rhythm and slipped into Russian when they lost it. Maybe it was for the best that they didn’t make a habit of afternoon meetings. This was torture. Traffic was thick, and Shane tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, eyes flicking to the clock again and again. Was time moving faster today? By the time he’d parked and sprinted up to his hotel room, there was barely enough time to pull on dress pants and shrug into a high-end suit jacket over a wrinkled shirt. It didn’t quite meet dress code, but he’d rather take the hit for that than further fuel Hayden’s theory that he’d been late because he was with a woman named Lily. A woman Shane had vehemently denied existed. His protests had sounded less convincing lately, and maybe he’d stopped caring if they did. Theriault waited outside the bus, and Shane was already apologizing before the coach could get a word in. “My bad, Coach.” “First for everything I suppose,” Theriault grunted, giving him a look that lingered somewhere between concern and curiosity. Shane was the captain. He was supposed to set
- Language:
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77061116
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Ilya was used to it, a lot of women find it attractive and sexy when he speaks Russian– it might be one of the reasons why they would hook-up with him. Though, he would never expect Shane to like it too. Ilya had a hunch, but he did not pay attention to it. He thinks it was just Shane being curious or being attracted to Ilya, but the patterns were getting too hard to ignore. It was subtle, very subtle. Not obvious enough for everyone in the room to notice it, but then no one is watching or observing Shane like he does, perhaps that is one of the reasons why he was the only one who noticed it. When Ilya was too tired, too annoyed, too worried, or too angry to translate whatever was on his mind into English, he just let his thoughts to exist as they were. It was easier for him anyway, even after years of living outside Canada, he still can't express himself fully without slipping a Russian word or two. Ilya thought everything was normal, Shane doesn’t mind when Ilya suddenly speaks in Russian mid conversation, but then he started to noticed it lately. Every time a Russian slipped out of him in moments he wasn’t watching himself, Shane would react every time.
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- English
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77071751
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I can watch the old days, she was beautiful then by harperose
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
So he followed Ilya. He followed Ilya into the living room. And then, he waited. Waited for Ilya to collapse onto the couch and do nothing- to stare at nothing. Something that he had been doing more and more recently. Waited for Ilya to pull out his phone and facetime whoever he was fucking when Shane left Canada. Waited for Ilya to pull out a secret bottle of vodka and down nearly the whole thing. (Waited for Ilya to pull out a bottle of pills and accidentally take one too many.) But Ilya didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he moved towards the shelf filled with DVDs and movies from Ilya's childhood that were still trapped in VHS. It was nighttime, they were supposed to be sleeping. But they were both awake, Shane knew they were. But Ilya didn’t. Ilya probably thought he was the only one awake– something that Shane let him believe by keeping his eyes shut, his breathing even… And by resisting the urge to reach out, to part his lips and ask where his boyfriend was going tonight– what his boyfriend would do tonight. After vodka and sex, Ilya shouldn’t be doing anything other than sleeping. Normally, he would be dead to the world and Shane would once again feel like he was sleeping next to a corpse. A corpse that, every once in a while, let out a deep snore that sounded more and more like a snort of laughter every time he had the pleasure of hearing it. The mattress underneath them shifted thanks to Ilya’s sudden movement. Movement that he only made when he was certain that his bed companion was asleep. Shane wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or not that Ilya’s test for tonight to see if he was awake or not was just gently whispering his name into the darkness. Because he enjoyed the small kisses that ilya would press to the back of his neck or whatever part of him he could easily reach without risking the mattress moving too much and risking rousing Shane. Shane, who Ilya thought was sleeping when he didn’t even twitch after a few kisses that normally he would find irresistible. But tonight, there were no kisses. There was only a call of his name. Maybe that was a good thing though. After all, if Ilya began pressing kisses to his skin again, Shane doubted he would be able to ignore them. Not after what happened tonight– definitely not after what happened tonight. So, Ilya only called his name softly. And when he didn’t reply, he began moving. Moving out of the bed– away from Shane. And towards wherever he had been going at night. A place where Shane would discover– he was brave enough to discover after lacking the courage the previous nights. Suddenly, the bed stopped moving. Ilya had finally completed his mission and slipped out of it. But Shane would not follow suit. Not until he was certain the other man was no longer in the bedroom. He only had to wait a few seconds for that to happen– to Ilya to leave him all alone in the bed in the home they were building together. Shane’s eyes fluttered open, watching Ilya retreating back as he crept down the hallway. And then, when it was safe to do so, he followed his partner who didn’t really feel like the partner he had committed his loyalty and life to all those years ago. Because Ilya was being secretive again– just like he had been before they decided to be together. Really be together . Normally, Ilya would open up. Or, well, the new Ilya would open up… eventually. But it seemed like Ilya had reverted back to his past self that was riddled with secrets and avoidance. And well Shane… Shane was worried. About so many things– and all of them had to do with Ilya recently. So he had to know– know something that he knew would cause him to feel guilt about what he found out. Because, in a way, it felt like he was betraying Ilya– betraying his trust to spy on him and uncover a secret that years ago he wouldn’t even attempt to uncover. But that was years ago. And now things were different. So many things had changed– so many things had come to light. And Shane needed to know. He needed to lessen the ever growing knot of unease in his stomach. So he followed Ilya. He followed Ilya into the living room. And then, he waited. Waited for Ilya to collapse onto the couch and do nothing- to stare at nothing. Something that he had been doing more and more recently. Waited for Ilya to pull out his phone and facetime whoever he was fucking when Shane left Canada. Waited for Ilya to pull out a secret bottle of vodka and down nearly the whole thing. (Waited for Ilya to pull out a bottle of pills and accidentally take one too many.) But Ilya didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he moved towards the shelf filled with DVDs and movies from Ilya's childhood that were still trapped in VHS. A furrow appeared in Shane's brow as he watched Ilya pick out an old VHS he had teasingly suggested upgrading to a DVD so many times before. And that furrow only deepened, just for a moment before it ruptured with silent understanding, when Ilya forced the television screen to come alive with that old movie. A movie that Shane knew wasn't supposed to be this. Because this… This wasn't a mainstream movie that made its way onto VHS and trapped inside that case. This was something else.
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- English
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- 1,695
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77073996
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The bus was just a run of the mill charter bus. Nothing special. No obnoxious Greek letters to indicate that- Well, fuck. “Mom,” Shane hissed suddenly, getting closer as she waved to bus full of frat boys. “You cannot be serious.” (Professor/college student AU with a side of frat boy Ilya)
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- English
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- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77078556
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Because Ilya knew how Shane liked to be treated, and the Shane Hollander who dropped like a fucking rock from being denied in a filthy bathroom, even after begging for it with half the hockey world outside, would love dirty talk. Honestly, fuck his father, fuck homophobia, fuck English, and fuck his shitty brain from keeping them from having what Ilya was sure would be the best fucking sex of their lives. At the cottage, Ilya lets the most terrifying confession of his life slip when he tells Shane he loves him. On the bright side, now that Ilya's no longer afraid of blurting out his feelings during sex, this obviously meant he could step up his dirty talk beyond foreplay and muttered directions. But when Shane takes one of Ilya's commands literally and shuts down, they have to learn what they never had the safety to indulge in before this: honesty not only in how they fit together but what they choose to share.
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- English
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- 5,156
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77061701
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Get the fire out from the wire (I'd share a life and you'd share a life) by LoneswaggingRanger
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-04
While Shane is out talking with his mom about his sexuality and her unquestionable acceptance, Ilya and his father are inside having a heart-to-heart of their own. Shane's father is so… nice. Easy, kind. Not constantly demanding that Ilya performs more, provides more, gives more, wins more, more, more, more— "So, uh." Shane's father cuts through the fog of Ilya's thoughts. "How do you feel about all of this?" What sort of question was that? "Uh, good, I guess." Ilya shrugs, before remembering that David's son is probably out there having a panic attack with his crying wife.
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- English
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- 1,546
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77082031
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“What if I spank you?” Ilya suggested, entirely serious and far too nonchalant Shane nearly stopped breathing. “What?” “I spank you, get rid of guilt.” Or, Shane still feels guilty for lying to his parents about everything despite their talk going well. Ilya helps him through it by proposing an unexpected solution.
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- English
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- 2,112
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77080106
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Shane sighed. “I usually don’t do that type of thing. I was just listening to music and, I don’t know, felt like it.” “I’m glad you did,” Ilya purred, running with fingers through Shane’s hair. “Mm?” “It is the most sexy you have ever looked.” “Shut the fuck up.” “I do not lie! You are a good dancer, great even. For a Canadian, at least.” Shane dances in his kitchen exactly one (1) time and it gets leaked to the media. Expected chaos ensues. Ilya intervenes in a very Ilya way.
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- English
- Words:
- 6,048
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77049876
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Lay Your Head on Me by madeleineh32
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
Shane had made a joke, a passing quip, that if only they could somehow defy biology and reproduce naturally, that their child would be an unstoppable force of a hockey player. Hereditary. Genetic. Those were the words he’d used. Ilya knew what they meant. Or: Ilya thinks about what may have been passed onto him from his parents, and Shane comforts him. Ilya inhaled a shaky breath. He was, perhaps, overthinking. But also maybe he wasn’t. It had been an innocent, playful conversation about kids. Shane and him often spoke of their hypothetical children, joyfully imaging their lives post-hockey. They weren’t quite there yet, but it was something that, for a while, had been definitely mapped out in their future. So why was he breathing like the room was going to run out of oxygen? “Ilya?” Shane rested a careful hand on Ilya’s thigh. They were sat outside, the evening chill only just beginning to settle on their skin. The fire Shane had made was still flickering, though, casting a warm orange glow upon both men. “M’fine.” Ilya’s words were stilted, decidedly un-fine as he choked them out. He puffed out his cheeks, exhaling again, slower this time, furiously swiping at his eyes which were beginning to prickle with the threat of tears. He would not cry about this. “Come here,” Shane murmured, pulled Ilya sideways. He was like putty, folding immediately and nestling his head in Shane’s lap. It was warm, safe as Shane interlaced his fingers through Ilya’s hair. His other hand ran up and down Ilya’s arm, over the goosebumps that had raised the skin on his biceps. He sniffed once, then again. Blinked. Let his eyes lose focus as he watched the flames licking the sides of the fire-pit. “Is stupid,” Ilya muttered. “No.” “Da.” “What is it? You don’t… want kids?” Shane asked carefully, his voice measured. Ilya could tell, though, from years of hearing Shane’s voice in every capacity, that it was tinged with fear, fear of the answer. Ilya’s sure Shane knows that’s not the case; they spoke about kids often. Ilya loved kids, was great with them, and Shane knows that. He huffed out a laugh. Swiped at his eyes again. Nudged his head further into Shane’s lap, let Shane’s hand tighten against his scalp. He brought his other hand up and pressed it against Ilya’s forehead. Shane knew that always grounded him for some reason, having the pressure on his head. Stopped the noise somewhat. “When we say we adopt - of course. That is okay. I want that.” He hears Shane exhale, feels him relax slightly. “But when you say…” his English seemed to fail him. It always seemed to when he got like this. He shut his eyes, sighing with frustration. Shane had made a joke, a passing quip, that if only they could somehow defy biology and reproduce naturally, that their child would be an unstoppable force of a hockey player. Hereditary. Genetic. Those were the words he’d used. Ilya knew what they meant. “Take your time.” Shane’s hands wander back into Ilya’s hair, more gentle than the earlier pressure. “About our child being best hockey player. Genetics. DNA. Heredit–” He groans in frustration again. “Hereditary,” Shane finishes off softly. “Da. That.” Ilya’s hand reached up and he wraps his fingers around Shane’s wrist. “I was thinking. I am glad we cannot have baby. Together.” Shane’s confusion is palpable even without Ilya being able to see his face. He liked this about Shane. He liked being able to explain things to him in a way that made sense, because it made things make more sense in his own head, too. Shane just hums, urging Ilya to continue. “We know I am depressed, yes?” Shane’s fingers curl into his hair. “Like my mother. Maybe not same, exactly. But similar. Probably… hereditary.” He says the word slowly, testing it on his tongue. He hates the way his accent wraps around the syllables. He wishes Shane knew Russian, fluently. He wishes that he could ramble away, go off on tangents, not have to think everything through in both Russian and then English. He wishes he could speak perfect English. Perfect accent like Shane when he speaks French. Perfect Shane and his perfect genetics. He wishes he didn’t get wound up like this. He spirals so easily these days. He wishes he wasn’t so depressed. He wishes his mother hadn’t been depressed. Stop fucking spiralling. He feels his heart rate pick up again, hears his breathing go shallow. “Ilya.” Shane’s voice is grounding. It’s stern, without being unkind. He inhales again, deeply, his fingers pressing more into Shane’s wrist. “Sorry.” His voice is thick, and his mouth feels dry. Shane presses his hand against Ilya’s head again, and he leans into the pressure. “We’re managing it, though.” Shane’s voice is quiet as he cuts through the easing tension that hangs in the air. “Together.” “Yes.” Ilya pauses before speaking again. “Dementia is also hereditary,” He lets his words sit between them, hears Shane exhale as the other shoe drops. “That’s what you’re worried about?” Ilya lifts his hand in a shrug. “Yes, Shane. I think that is something anyone would worry about, no?” He doesn’t mean to sound like an asshole, especially not to Shane. “Okay, asshole.” Shane’s voice doesn’t hold any venom, only fondness, a little sad, even. Ilya almost smirks. They sit in silence for a moment, Shane carding his hands through Ilya’s curls, the crackle of the fire the only thing filling the absence of words for a moment. He speaks again.
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- English
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- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77083736
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The raised line of the back of Shane's left shouder. Ilya had noticed it in the shower back on that faitful day. He ran his hands over it hours later in room 1410 with Shane beneath him. He's caressed it thousands of times over the years, but never asked from where it was. The story of how Shane got his scar.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,639
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77103791
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I always want to win with you. by Blombus
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-04
For the first time on the Olympic ice rink, we have a married couple sharing the ice. Well, hopefully. Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov, both wearing the Maple Leaf for Team Canada. Hollander just signed with Ottawa after ending his long-standing career in Montreal. The world is yet to see them on the same team, playing together. Like you said, hopefully tonight is the night! or - Shane and Ilya play their first Olympic games for Team Canada. Kinky celebrations ensue.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,990
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77068796
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Sometimes they’re curled up on the bed together afterwards and Shane runs his hands up and down Ilya’s body, rhythmic and smooth, touching just to touch. Ilya is stunning in the literal sense of the word: Shane is paralyzed by him, struck dumb. Desire may never be a problem here, but understanding is: Ilya feels distant and incomprehensible to Shane. — A cross-section of Shane Hollander’s sex life.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 14,058
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77101141
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“Mr Hollander I just-” He had been forming the words in his head the whole time. Translating it over and over to make sure it came out correctly. “David, please.” “What?” Ilya says. “David. Please call me David.” . . . Alternatively what Ilya was thinking and feeling during the second half of episode 6
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- English
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- 2,160
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77104646
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When it comes to Shane Hollander, Ilya knows he’s fucked up. Oh, he’s fucked up plenty and somehow, Shane always finds a way to forgive him. To want him again. —or someone said ilya should have apologized to shane after the “marrying svetlana” comment. i agree.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,030
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77100031
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i wanna know peace again (wanna be singing a different song) by alternateevak
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-04
Shane Hollander knew a lot of things. He knew that there were not many things easier than breathing, but that Hockey was one of them. And the other was loving Ilya Rozanov. One of these is easier than the other, especially when he also knows he's probably been having a panic attack for a whole day and under no circumstances can Ilya Rozanov know about it.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,377
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77104761