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The knock at his door comes about five minutes after Shane gets home, three minutes after Shane pees on the stupid sticks, one minute after Shane looks at the fucking pink plus signs, and about thirty seconds after tears spring to his eyes. Shane Hollander, professional hockey player and captain of the Montreal Metros, has a bun in the fucking oven. Or Shane and Ilya's enemies-with-benefits arrangement has some unintended consequences.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 27,119
- Chapters:
- 9/9
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75822406
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I Don't Need Drugs ('Cause I'm Already High Enough) by lipstickliterature
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-24
Shane has an emergency wisdom tooth extraction. Ilya takes care of him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,222
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76315931
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A team gathering at Shane and Ilya's cabin leads to three couples being snowed in… except one couple is brand new, happened after everyone went to bed new, and Ilya has some things to say about it. Shane is a tired, but proud, dad, and Ilya is protective. ~~ spoilers relating to The Long Game, not many, but there are book spoilers as this is mostly post The Long Game
- Part 1 of 10 Days of Winter (Hollanov Discord)
- Part 4 of Heated Rivalry
- Part 6 of LucaOc
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,300
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76328936
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Still Waters by TheQueenoftheAbyss
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-24
“Ilya hasn’t been very well recently.” Shane swallowed, he hated saying that out loud, “Not for a long time actually.” ~ Ilya's depression is flat, still and cold like water, sometimes he thinks it might drown him. The Hollanders are here to help him float. (Or Ilya has a bad day, Yuna notices, and in the Hollander household love and support are given by force.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,024
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76331606
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If Ilya and Shane had written their own vows, this is how it would go. (Loosely based on 18 by One Direction. Spoilers for The Long Game!)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,392
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76295946
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An A/B/O secret nesting fic. The 5 times Shane steals clothes from Ilya and the 1 time he gets caught, plus his reaction. Inspired by the staircase scene where Shane is holding onto Ilya's hoodie :)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,158
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76354131
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now work! by Literal_Multifandom_Trashcan
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-24
It had been two days since Shane had surprised Ilya, and they’d had so much sex that Shane genuinely wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it to practice that morning. His lower back ached, his legs ached, but it was honestly a pleasant ache. It was a constant reminder every time Shane moved that he was married to the love of his life and that even after all these years sex was mindblowing and insane regardless of how often they had it. But it was the first time he would be seeing the team since that night at the club, and he could feel the shit he was going to get. or: a short little follow up oneshot of the cens teasing ilya and shane in the locker room a few days after The Lingerie Incident
- Part 2 of fashion icon
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,773
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76356496
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We don't hate him anymore? by Willtheartist
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-24
slight canon divergence au where Shane's parents find out he's gay and seeing Ilya because of Shane's lack of filter at the hospital due to the painkillers he's on Extract: “Ilya was here,” he smiled again. “Yes, honey. I know. They told us. What do you want from Rozanov?” Shane threw his head back, staring at the ceiling, “him.” Before she could ask Shane what on earth he was talking about, he shifted on the bed again and continued, “Always. Ilya.” “We were supposed to meet after the game!” he whined. “But, fucking Marlow, ugh-” he gesticulated with his uninjured hand, “aaaand now I won’t be able to play… and I won’t see him.” Shane’s adorable pout was not nearly cute enough to distract her from… whatever was happening. “You’re… Rozanov? You- you and… Rozanov are… friends?” she raised an eyebrow. “And you hang out after games? Since when?”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,563
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76358886
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Ilya's always been so controlled with his scent. It only ever slips free in moments of heightened emotions on the rink or tangled in his sheets. Shane feels it begin to curl around him now where he sits in Ilya’s lap, his arms wrapped snug around the man's broad shoulders. Shane gently cups Ilya’s head and brings it to his neck, exhaling shakily as the Alpha nuzzles against his skin. “Ilya, let go,” Shane tilts his head back, “Let go…Alpha.” -- An abo retelling of the Tampa Bay hotel room scene after the All Stars game.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,619
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76227151
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On the Grassy Shore by LadyElspeth
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-23
At the cottage, Ilya Rozanov asked Shane Hollander to practice yoga. Taking another long sip from his bottle of cold beer, Ilya grinned. “Hey, Hollander,” he said in an upbeat voice, “where’s your yoga mat? I haven’t seen it.” Even though Shane was wearing sunglasses in the lazy afternoon light as he leaned down to check out the stove to prepare for dinner, Ilya could bet that Shane was rolling his eyes. “Please tell me you aren’t thinking about that stupid house tour again. Why?” “Why not?” Ilya shrugged. “Learned some new words too. ‘Fortress of solitude,’ am I saying it right?” he pronounced carefully, not wanting to mess up any syllable. “Because I still can’t believe you watched the whole damn thing!” Shane threw a rag resting on the grill’s handle to Ilya, who caught it easily only to toss it aside. “I did. I want to see it.” Shane turned around sharply to stare at Ilya. “See what? Me doing yoga?” A larger grin, almost wicked, was expanding on Ilya’s face. He knew how Shane loved it when he smiled like that—just a matter of time before Shane gave in. “Oh yes. You showed it to the camera crew. You can show it to me.” And Shane was already blushing. “All right,” Shane mumbled, moving his eyes away from Ilya’s face and starting to walk indoors. “I’ll be right back.” Ilya tried to hide his excitement by nodding slightly and drinking the beer again. A minute later, Shane reappeared with the light blue yoga mat, the same one that Ilya saw on his tv in Boston, and spread it on the grass. Ilya shook his head and clicked his tongue loudly. Shane paused, looking up with raised brows. “No, no, it’s wrong. Turn it to the side,” Ilya instructed. “I need the same angle.” Shane chuckled, “Asshole.” Nevertheless, he moved the yoga mat, and Ilya nodded with approval. What happened next was so mesmerizing that Ilya nearly let the bottle of beer slip through his fingers several times. Fucking hell, Shane was taking off his sunglasses, shoes, and socks. Then, he was on his stomach, legs flat as he hoisted his torso with the bulging muscles of his arms. And Shane got on one foot and stretched, his toned arms glistening under the sun. Each pose was meticulous, and Ilya felt like he was in a classroom in a high-end yoga studio. Instinctively, he held his breath and leaned forward in his Adirondack chair, his sunglasses unable to hide the intensity of the gaze underneath. When Shane turned around to face the lake, away from Ilya, and reached down, his tight, round buttocks flush against his shorts were too much. Okay. That was it! Ilya decided. In a flash, he carelessly put down his sunglasses, then the bottle, not caring that it fell and the rest of his drink spilled into the grass. He bridged the distance between them, kicked aside his sandals, and stepped on the mat to stand behind Shane. Shane wasn’t done with the last pose. He sucked in a breath when Ilya touched his stomach, pulling him in. “Want to learn yoga?” Shane laughed, leaning back into Ilya’s strong chest. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t care.” Ilya didn’t want to think about English words anymore. He wanted to pin Shane down on his slutty yoga mat that he dared to show to the whole world and fuck him. Turning to face Ilya, Shane smiled. The light breeze, sweet like lemonade, lifted a strand of hair by Shane’s ear. His hair was a little longer now compared to his look during the season, and Ilya loved it. And the light brown in Shane’s eyes as they reflected the sunlight was as tasty as honey. Ilya leaned in to kiss that adorable strand of hair, eyes taking in the bridge of freckles on Shane’s face. “You’re too cute,” Ilya said. Shane blushed and kissed Ilya back on the lips. But their touches on each other’s arms and chest soon became heated in the summer sun. Shane pulled off his tank top, and Ilya, not wearing anything on his chest to begin with, helped him throw it aside. “Show me more yoga,” Ilya murmured and turned Shane around, making them both get down. When Ilya towered over Shane, who was on his hands and knees, he tried to protest:
- Part 6 of Hollanov
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,788
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76241831
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High On Your Lovin' by beeaattrriicce
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-23
Shane has his wisdom tooth removed. Ilya panics, Shane is high on painkillers. Inspired by the hospital scene in episode 5
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,139
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76231211
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i can't hide from you (like i hide from myself) by princebutt
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-23
“Who’s got you blushing like that, Shane Hollander?” Shane’s gaze shoots up and his brain short-circuits, going completely blank with any good answer other than the truth – Ilya Rozanov makes me giggle like a lovesick fool. Shit. “Uhh, my mom?” Terrible answer. What the fuck, Hollander? “You’re a terrible liar, my friend,” Rose points out as she smirks and watches him carefully. OR, Shane comes clean about his relationship with Ilya to Rose Landry.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,903
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76239731
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“What the fuck are you driving, Hollander?” “A Jeep Cherokee.” Ilya snorted. “What? It’s practical!” “You’re a millionaire.” Ilya and Shane go car shopping because seriously, if you could drive practically any car, why a Jeep?
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,465
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76235871
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Shane catches a cold and Ilya makes him a tea. The hotel’s carpet, patterned in a taste Ilya found offensive, carried him toward the end of the hall. With each quiet step, the knot in his chest cinched tighter. Excitement tangled with trepidation, the need to touch Shane pressing harder than the fear that this time, the door would remain closed. Perhaps Hollander had already written off their handful of hurried meetings as a fluke. A mistake. But this was Boston. His hometown. And Ilya had already been lucky once tonight. A five–three win, an additional two goals on his record-breaking season. Midnight had only just passed; maybe the day still owed him one more kindness. When he reached the room number Hollander had reluctantly given him in passing, murmuring in the hallway behind the rink before the game, Ilya paused. He glanced over his shoulder, down the empty corridor, confirming no one would witness him slipping into his competition’s room. Then, with a staccato drum beating beneath his battered ribs, he raised his hand and rapped his knuckles against the door. Time slowed to a near halt as he waited, restlessly tapping his foot against the floor for any shuffle behind the door. Nothing came. He knocked again, harder. Most of the Metros were likely out drowning Boston’s nightlife, but Ilya was certain Hollander wasn’t among them. There was a long list of things he still didn’t know about him, but one truth had surfaced early: number twenty-four wasn’t a fan of parties, or drinking, or dancing. Boring, Ilya had declared at the time, unwilling to admit he’d found the abstinence quietly endearing. It was rare, after all, for a man in his early twenties, at the prime of his life, blessed with a generous salary and a face most people recognized, to spend his nights watching juvenile YouTube videos and sipping Ginger Ale alone in a hotel room. He lifted his hand to knock a third time. The soft vibration in his jeans pocket stopped him. Can’t happen tonight. Sorry. Disappointment bloomed bitter on his tongue. He swallowed it down, refusing to give it room to linger. So that was it. Their fling, short-lived, messy, clumsy, infuriatingly fun, was over Even as Ilya tried to accept the truth of it, his hand betrayed him, knocking anyway. At the faint rustle of bedsheets behind the door, he tugged out his phone and typed a quick reply. I know you’re there. Open up, Hollander. Somewhere inside the room, he heard a humorless sound bleed through the silence. Half a laugh, half a breath. Then, a cough. It sounded hollow, dry. Another text. Go away, Rosanov. Ilya’s determination was fierce, an unstoppable force. It was what had carried him this far, onto Boston’s starting line, into the life he’d dreamed of as an eight-year-old with a pair of used skates and only the roughest grasp of English. That same tenacity refused to let him walk away now. He sighed, dragging a hand through his brown curls as he weighed his next move. Someone’s going to see me. It wasn’t dignified, dangling the threat of exposure over Hollander’s head. Rumors would spread fast if he were found loitering outside a competitor’s hotel room in the dead of night, and they’d damn Ilya just as thoroughly as they would Hollander. Still, when it worked, satisfaction curled warm in his chest. The deadbolt slid free, and the sound sparked low in his stomach. “Get in,” Hollander rasped. “Now, you idiot.” “So excited to see me,” Ilya teased, slipping through the narrow opening and pulling the door shut behind him. The television was the room’s only light, its flicker casting long shadows over the rumpled sheets and a small pile of Kleenex on the nightstand. Ilya’s gaze snagged there, drifted to a bottle of NyQuil, then lifted back to Hollander. Red nose. Swollen eyes. Instinctively, he stepped back. “You’re sick.” “You think I was playing like shit for fun?” Hollander snapped, though the bite didn’t land. Whatever fire he’d burned on the ice was gone now. The man in front of him was spent, shirtless and damp with sweat, trousers hanging low and wrinkled on his hips, exhaustion etched into every line. Still, Ilya’s attention lingered. He couldn’t help noticing the shape of his bare arms, remembering the way those fingers had slid up his chest, over his cheek, through his hair. “Not worse than usual,” Ilya shrugged, resisting a smile when Hollander rolled his eyes. “Fuck off,” Hollander muttered. Their usual banter fell flat when every word cost him something, when his limbs dragged as he turned back toward the bed and nearly collapsed onto the edge of the mattress. “You want to get sick too? You’ve got a game tomorrow.” “I am Russian,” Ilya said simply. “Russians do not get sick.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,345
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76243066
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Shane and Ilya have just gotten married. It is the morning after their wedding and they celebrate the best way they know. Or Shane and Ilya have soft, playful sex with a lot of back and forth teasing and flirting.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,004
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76243376
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The (more than) 12 Years of Christmas by JayeReid1
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-23
. “Papa… what did you do at Christmas when you were a little boy?” “Solnyshko, Papa was never little boy. Always big, strong man.” .
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,077
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76256451
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Ilya Rozanov walks into traffic by kwiewi
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-23
“You know, statistically, I’m much less likely to get hit by a car. I’m not the one that almost walked into traffic a few minutes ago,” Shane says. “That was all you, Rozanov.” He winks. “It is okay. I am very strong. A car could not run me over, I would run the car over with my big muscles,” he pats his bicep. “I am like that big green man. Very strong. Very angry. Massive dick.” Shane flushes. “You’re not the fucking Hulk, man, shut up. You could not fight a car.” - or: the obligatory hollanov meet-ugly
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,215
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76279941
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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 deserves a special treat for making it through a tough season. He doesn't know how special the brownies at the Centaurs' party are. aka hospital Shane on the good drugs makes his return
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,871
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76267561
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These past two games were hard on Shane; he was tired, he was a little hurt, and he missed his fucking boyfriend. But maybe said boyfriend was closer than he thought. Or Shane is a little overwhelmed, and Ilya is a big softy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,759
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76277701