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and this is when the feeling sinks in (i don't wanna miss you like this) by Icantthinkofagoodusername7
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-30
Okay, fuck, he really needs to get in contact with someone who knows something about whether or not his boyfriend is still breathing right now because he can't keep thinking like this. He squeezes his eyes shut, forcing the tears to go away and he calls his mom back, holding the phone up to his ear, hoping that she, somehow, has some kind of update for him; he knows that Ilya made Yuna her emergency contact a while ago, just in case, so if anybody is going to be able to tell him anything it’s going to be her. Unless she hasn’t heard any news, unless he’s dead at the crash site and they can’t identify his body, unless they- ”He’s okay,” His mom says the moment she answers the phone, barely even letting it ring one time and, yeah, she really does know her son. She knows that that had to be the very first thing out of her mouth before anything, otherwise Shane would spiral. (As if he hasn’t already been spiraling.) * OR, the plane from The Long Game actually crashes, Ilya gets injured, Shane rents a car to drive down to him, and he takes care of him.
- Part 16 of Solstice Fics :o
- Part 3 of my hollanov fics (aka im mentally ill and can't stop writing about them)
- Part 1 of would it be enough if i could never give you peace? (is it enough?)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,992
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76397296
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Shane and Ilya go to a club where Shane gets too friendly with other guys, Ilya isn’t too happy about it Or Ilya makes sure Shane knows who he belongs to
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,565
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76722006
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Shane is more sentimental than Ilya gives him credit for.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,443
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76742001
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Hayden Pike has just discovered Ilya Rozanov's plans to murder Shane Hollander, and he is panicking, ok? Or- Ilya and Shane's odd foreplay leave poor Hayden in a frazzle with the implications of Ilya Rozanov lurking in the shadows of a parking lot, licking his teeth like a wolf. (Multiple POV's)
- Part 1 of Ilya Goes Hunting
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,293
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76708466
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self indulgent fic where ilya suprises shane with a sex machine… despite being anxious and a little annoyed shane just wants to please him
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,911
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76710736
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Looking back at it now, how he longed for his own bed, he thought maybe his mother wasn’t lazy at all, but maybe her own mind and heart were just simply too heavy for her to lift. He hoped that practice would help his mood lift, and his medication would kick in. He’d be back to being himself. The rink was cold when Shane and he entered, hand in hand, and the loud chatter of his team immediately made a headache bloom behind his eyes. Ilya is having a bad depression day, but at the end of it all Shane is right there to help him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,437
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76686321
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Ilya has been thinking. Since Christmas has rolled around and no work on the ice has been done, Ilya and Shane have retired to the cottage, and Ilya has been thinking. Maybe it’s time to voice those thoughts. SET POST ‘THE LONG GAME’ The cottage houses both Shane and Ilya, and has been since the NHL sent their players home for the winter. Shane, who sits on the left side of the couch, is engrossed in his phone, meandering over Instagram. Ilya sits across from him, on the right, sprawled over the cushions with his eyes closed, pondering his thoughts. Shane sends Ilya a look or two from the side, watching over as Ilya’s eyes work under his lids, pouring over whatever it is he’s been thinking of the past week. Seems it has come to the surface, now. He shifts from his splay and sits up properly, opening his eyes. Shane looks away. Ilya stretches his arm out over the back of the couch, alike to a panther. He awkwardly taps his fingertips against the material, pursing his lips in thought. Shane, naturally, notices. Ilya’s knee is bouncing. The rhythm is disrupting. “What are you thinking about?” “Nothing,” Ilya is quick to defend. Shane tilts his head, defying Ilya’s answer. “Ilya.” “Nothing important,” he insists. “Just . . .” He inhales to blow up his cheeks then exhales to pop like a balloon. “You’re very . . .Neurotic, sometimes.” “Gee, thanks,” Shane scrubs his nails over the nape of his hair, now short, stubbly like he likes it. “No, is good.” Ilya amends, sitting up and leaning closer. “Is good to have attention to detail. Sometimes you pay too much attention.” Shane chews on the inside of his cheek, feeling the line of a scar marred across it with his tongue. “Where is this going?” “You feel a lot.” Ilya adds, tugging at one of his curls, trying to convey his point. “Yes, Ilya. I’m not a robot.” Ilya hums low in his throat, looking momentarily very confused and frustrated with where the conversation has gone. He reels Shane back in: “remember when you told me to get therapy?” “Christ,” Shane expels in unprepared shock, “how could I forget?” It’s how casually Ilya says it that catches him off guard. “I think you could benefit.” Shane nods. “I don’t disagree,” he shrugs, wanting to melt into the pillows. Sadly, long ago, they promised to be honest to one another. It is both a blessing and a curse. “I’ve been seeing Ottawa’s counsellor every once in a while.” “‘Once in a while’.” Ilya parrots, lifting his bouncing knee from the floor to tuck it beneath himself, crossing his legs. “I, uh . . .” He huffs, computing his next words. “Spit it out,” Shane urges softly, straightening his leg and taking his foot at a point to poke Ilya’s thigh. “You know how my mother had depression. I got depression,” Ilya articulates, inching closer to Shane on the couch, shimmying over. “Yes?” Shane says, gaze tender, shifting to meet Ilya in the middle. His hand finds itself snaking around Ilya’s thigh and gripping him close. Ilya’s arm comes around Shane’s shoulders around the backrest. “Your father . . .He has autism?” “You think . . .I have autism?” Shane’s eyebrows knit. “Wouldn’t be so far fetched.” Ilya shrugs. Shane is trying to be somewhat angry with this conclusion. Thinking, how dare Ilya diagnose him like this? Yet, all he can think is how sickeningly sweet being so intimately known by another for them to recognise something monumental like this is. His eyebrows stay knitted but he’s almost smiling. “When did you start thinking that?” “It wasn’t . . .How you say? Conscious? I just started noticing.” Ilya tries to explain, dropping his arm to rest across Shane’s waist, drawing patterns with his fingernail politely tracing into Shane’s side. “Things I didn’t pay attention to before. Your routines. Bad social skills.” Shane looks offended for a moment, before reality sets in and he wonders if Ilya really is so far off. “My social skills aren’t bad.” “Not . . .Bad. Fuck. I’m bad at this.” “No, no . . .” Shane comforts, trailing off. He can’t seem to get enough of the conversation. It’s almost amusing. “Keep going.” “Internet said about social cues. Sometimes you don’t get conversation. Like, jokes don’t land.” Ilya explains, swallowing anxiously, chuckling slightly for it to wear off. Shane nods at him. “And this might not mean anything, but you like being clean . . .The cottage is always clean. Your car; clean. Bedroom; clean. You shower every day. Wash your face morning and night.” “Yeah,” Shane agrees, “comforts me.” “Another thing,” Ilya is reminded by Shane’s word choice, “they said comfort. Like, your weird rituals. The way you make your breakfast then eat it. Your routines. Game day is different but same, you know? Always the same.” Shane has begun smiling, now. “My parents have always said the same thing—I’ve had the same routines since I was maybe a teenager.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,109
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76692166
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Opposites Attract by attackattackattack
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-30
After his accident, Shane doesn’t remember Ilya Rozanov. Why does his rival visit him in the hospital? And who is this “Lily” in his phone? or an alternate story where shane forgets ilya but ilya makes shane remember this is canon compliant because it fits right after the accident and before the cottage
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,219
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76660991
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(wild and flourescent) come home (to my heart) by devereauxing
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-30
Yuna stares at him, bewildered and half way to offended. Rozanov groans and drops his head into his hands. “I am saying this wrong,” he mutters. No shit. “You just suggested euthanising my son.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,754
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76722491
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The Rules of Service by Blink_Blue
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-30
A bellboy. A star guest. Shane’s just doing his job… until Ilya Rozanov arrives. A little consensual mischief turns into an irresistible game. (Because we need more than five seconds of that roleplay scene.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,241
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76695136
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Hayden pieces together the not-so-subtle cues from Shane and Ilya throughout the years. Some are clearer than others. Like a very intoxicated Shane leaving his phone open after a night with Lily. Where "Lily" loves how desperate Shane was for his dick. Afterwards, a lot of heart eyes later, things are out in the open and Ilya couldn't be happier to have a new Canadian to torment. A how to for traumatising Hayden Pike
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,357
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76684266
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Shane needs to have his wisdom tooth extracted and Ilya is there to hold his hand.
- Part 1 of
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,245
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76688921
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Set during and after episode six. Ilya goes with Shane to Yuna and David’s house expecting discomfort, tension, and restraint. Instead, he finds warmth, awkward honesty, and something he never thought he’d be offered so easily: acceptance. "To be looked at fully. To be recognised. And to be loved anyway." A fic about being chosen, being seen, and the quiet certainty of knowing where you belong. With him.
- Part 1 of Between the Lines
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,107
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76709536
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Ilya gets traded onto Shane’s team. The problem was that Shane had one big, shameful secret —and Ilya Rozanov was the only one who knew.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 20,456
- Chapters:
- 6/6
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75771321
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Once More to See You by fuckboy_genius
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-30
Ilya has a nightmare.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,280
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76735281
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Summertime, and the living's easy ... Shane's last evening with Ilya before they part ways for the summer. _________ The storm outside of the cabin rolled in with lazy claps of thunder, each cloud more swollen with dark and threatening to spill its guts. Summer felt like it would last forever — each day unyielding yellow sun, each night heavy with the sound of cicadas and two boys immersed with each other's bodies in the thick, warm air. Shane really thought it might last forever, too, with this incredible man lying supine and lazy at the end of his bed, green eyes trained on the grayish black sky, and an incredible pout on. But the terrible thing with time, is that it often comes to an end, and theirs was fast approaching. “I relaxed,” Shane said, smile a little too crooked, heart a little bit jagged. How could it be, that summer was almost over? Thunder gave a fast clap, and the sky finally broke blue water. “I finally got to relax with you, Ilya.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,777
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76566281
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so you can sharpen your axe by KhloeKayHenstridge
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-30
Unfortunately for them, Shane and Ilya are at the cottage on a winter night and there is no wood left for the fire. Fortunately for Shane, Ilya has decided to take matters into his own hands and that means wood-chopping, shirtless. He cannot be blamed for what happens afterwards, he's just a man, after all.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,104
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76724411
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The Ford is a rusted-out red bucket, the tent is a mess of orange nylon, and the Norwegian woods are a lot steeper than they looked on the map. The wilderness doesn't care about NHL standings, and right now, it’s winning. For six years, Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov have lived in the quiet of hotel rooms and the heat of the game. But here, far away from the cameras and the crowds, their guard is finally starting to drop. Between charred sausages, a ruined pair of sneakers, and a leaking tent, they are running out of ways to hide from the truth. As the summer ends, they have to decide if they are brave enough to stop being rivals and start being something else entirely. The morning is quiet. The grass is grey with dew as they pull out of the driveway, the air cool enough to make Shane shiver. He’d insisted on renting this red Ford—a rusted-out bucket that he called "the authentic experience"—and it coughs as Ilya hits the street. Ilya looks at the dashboard like it’s a personal insult. Shane knows he’s thinking about his Ferrari. Shane watches Ilya’s profile in the dim light. He listens to the engine’s uneven beat and almost hopes the car just stops. A stall would freeze the world right here. It would keep them trapped in the smell of old upholstery and cold air, holding the moment still before the real world starts calling them back. A bottle of bug spray rattles in the door, breaking the silence. Shane reaches out to steady it and glances at the mess in the back seat. Tents, sleeping bags, and groceries are piled to the roof. It’s a disaster, honestly. They leave the city behind, passing quiet streets where only a few windows are lit. Shane leans his head against the glass. For six years, this is all they’ve had: fast, desperate nights in hotel rooms in cities like Detroit or Columbus. Quick sex after games where they spent an hour trying to smash each other into the boards. Even then, Ilya always made a point of pinning Shane down. Shane can still feel it if he closes his eyes: the silver cross Ilya wears dangling cold against his skin, and the sound of Ilya’s ragged breath in his ear. He loves it—the feeling of being held there by someone who actually can. Shane smiles at his reflection. He definitely has a thing for being pinned down. Lately, though, it’s been different. The hotel rooms turned into tuna melts in Ilya’s Boston apartment and long nights on his massive sofa. And Shane, being Shane, freaked out. He remembers storming out of Ilya’s place, stammering some lie about an early practice while trying not to see the hurt in Ilya’s eyes. Maybe Ilya can feel him starting to spiral again, because he suddenly reaches across the gearbox and takes Shane’s hand. The shift happened so slowly Shane didn't even notice. Ilya Rozanov—the arrogant Russian superstar who can score fifty goals or bruise Shane’s hips with the same ease—has become something else. Shane doesn’t have a name for it yet. He just knows he somehow ended up asking Ilya to come to Norway. He blames the drugs they gave him in the hospital after his last concussion. They were good drugs. He still remembers Ilya visiting him in that white, sterile room, his large hand brushing Shane's cheek. It was the only thing that felt real. Now, though, he’s stone-cold sober and terrified. Coming out has never felt like an option. Not in their world. The locker room is still a place where "faggot" is a punchline and any sign of being "soft" is a target. Even with guys like Scott Hunter leading the way, the fear is still there, eating at him. Every time he thinks about the flight back, a knot tightens in his chest. The new season is waiting for them, and the questions won't stop looping: What if Ilya decides this is too much work? What if the distance and the risk aren't worth it? Or worse—what if he stays, and ends up in a grey interrogation room back home because he’s been "corrupted" by a Canadian? It sounds like a bad Cold War parody, but the fear is real. Shane is most definitely freaking out. Again. Ilya strokes the back of Shane’s hand with his thumb. He meets Shane’s gaze, and his eyes are uncharacteristically kind. Fuck. Maybe it will be easier in the woods, away from the slurs and the cameras. He hopes so. Because when this car eventually turns back toward the airport, summer is over. The world will expect them to be rivals again. Just the thought of it makes it hard to breathe. *** “We should’ve bought the one that expands,” Ilya says. “Like fucking Transformer.” He sounds just as pissed off as he does after a missed breakaway in the third period. They’re parked at the base of a trail that goes straight up the mountain. The plan was simple: pitch the tent, look like they know what they’re doing, and start hiking before lunch. Instead, it’s a total disaster. This tent—bought during a rush of "we’re going to be outdoorsmen" energy in Oslo—is more complicated than any play Shane has ever seen on a whiteboard. Shane leans against the rusted Ford and just watches him. He can’t help but smirk. Ilya Rozanov, who can deke out the world’s best defenders, is currently losing a fight to a pile of orange nylon. His hair is a mess, and he’s somehow managed to tangle a cord around his ankle like a trap. For a guy who spent the whole flight acting like a mountain was just another challenge to beat, Ilya looks exactly like what he is: a prince from Moscow who grew up in five-star hotels. He knows as much about the woods as Shane knows about Russian opera. In the NHL, someone else handles everything. Someone else books the flights, carries the bags, and makes sure the towels are warm. Out here, there’s no PR team to make their incompetence look like "grit." “The box said it’s a four-man tent,” Shane says, holding the manual. It’s written entirely in Norwegian. “Only if those four men are very small,” Ilya mutters, “and have no personal boundaries at all.” He gives the fabric a shove and looks up at the grey peaks and the endless trees. “Seriously, Hollander. You bring me to the edge of the world just to prove we are both idiots?” “I think we bought a garden ornament,” Ilya adds, kicking a pole. “Not a shelter.” “Maybe it’s a test,” Shane says. It’s the kind of empty encouragement he usually uses in the locker room when they’re down by three. “If we survive the tent, we might survive the trip.” That arrogant grin flickers across Ilya’s face—the one that’s way too charming to ignore. It makes it hard for Shane to keep his guard up.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,610
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76725426
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Ferrari's Shane Hollander and Red Bull's Ilya Rozanov are fated to be rivals. After a horrible crash between the two, Shane devises a plan for revenge. Except it doesn't goes as planned when he finds himself waking up in Ilya Rozanov's bed.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 11,898
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76274826
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Shane and Ilya celebrate New Year's together.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,730
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76738676