21 – 40 of 54 Works in Concussions
- Concussions ×
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“Shane?” Ilya asks again. “What happened?” His gloveless hand twitches and he lifts it a fraction of an inch towards Shane. Shane tosses his own gloves to the ice and reaches forward, lacing their fingers together. “You took a bad hit,” he says, gritting his teeth against the fear clawing at his guts. “Flipped headfirst into the ice. Are you okay?” Ilya groans in answer and squeezes his hand, though Shane can't tell if he meant to do that or not. Suddenly, there are people all around them. Shane shifts protectively close before he realizes it’s the medical team. “Hollander, get back to your bench,” someone says, but there’s no way Shane’s going. Even if he wanted to, Ilya’s gripping his hand like a lifeline, eyes finally locked on Shane’s face. Shane isn’t leaving him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 15,263
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76517056
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Newly traded to the Ottawa Centaurs, Ilya Rozanov is so close to having everything he’d never thought he was allowed to want. He can see the man he loves more than four times a year, he’s surrounded by a team who supports him through his injury, and Shane’s parents have unhesitatingly accepted him as part of the family.
Except his lingering concussion symptoms have kept him sidelined from hockey, his boyfriend is still two hours away, their schedules are a disaster, and Shane’s team is, well…it’s full of assholes. There must be a way to make this all work out.
or
A sequel to a whump fanfiction with more whump…that is also, secretly, a fix-it.
- Part 2 of Return-to-Play
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 50,452
- Chapters:
- 20/20
- Files:
- 8 versions
- AO3:
- #77100471
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When Roz starts speaking, frantically letting out Russian words from his hospital bed, Troy jumps in fear. “Ty emu uzhe pozvonila? Gde mama?” While Troy might not know Russian, or any other Slavic language that might have offered him some sort of context, he understands the word for mother. His heart clenches in his chest. Calling for your mom, especially when you’re hurt and confused feels instinctive. Troy is pretty sure he’d do the same thing. But the thought of coming out of your dazed state while desperately wanting your mom, and the loss of your mom coming crashing down on you must be a different type of agony. Roz starts speaking again, Russian coming to him easier than English must. “Mama? Gde moya mama?”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,564
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #78176106
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The One Where Shane Falls Asleep At The Dinner Table by WonderfullyWonderingAlone59
Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-19
Shane has a bad day while recovering from his injuries and Ilya comes to take care of him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,037
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77935406
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After the snow fall by penpen_xo
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-01-18
Shane groaned, eyes cracking open with great effort, the distant sound of barking getting closer and closer, and he couldn’t help but wince at the volume as it pierced right through him. “Anya.” He managed to get out, and the dog in question nudged at his head, another groan eliciting from Shane’s lips at the movement. He was struggling to understand what was happening, but everything was fuzzy and scrambled and he couldn't hold onto a single thought for long enough to string anything tangible together. “Ilya.” He exhaled as Anya nudged him again. “Get Ilya….Anya, find Ilya.” or Shane slips and falls on ice while out walking Anya, and Anya is just your everyday Lassie.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,479
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77874021
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Forgotten Language by manyfandomsmember
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-14
Ilya gets his bell rung while playing for Ottawa against Montreal He forgets how to speak English and can only speak Russian Luckily, Shane Hollander, the light of his life, has learned Russian
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,767
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77687256
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semantics by anincompletelist (soldouthaz)
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-13
Pike calls Lily after Shane's concussion, full of restless panic and a complicated sense of responsibility at being the only one who knows about their relationship. Ilya Rozanov picks up instead.
- Part 1 of hr canon divergence
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,851
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77601976
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Ilya and Shane soulbond with a handshake in a freezing parking lot in Saskatchewan. It actually doesn’t change very much, until Shane’s concussion drives everything haywire, forcing them into close proximity and an earlier confrontation with all the feelings they’ve been trying to ignore. Or: as it turns out, it’s easier than you’d think to be in someone’s head and still not know how they feel.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 43,842
- Chapters:
- 8/8
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76077726
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There have been threats by gsmaxwell
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-01-10
Shane wasn’t stupid. He figured this was some kind of fucking cowardly tactic to keep him from being at the Games. Hopefully, that’s all they wanted. If he just played nice maybe this would all be over soon. No one was coming to save him. No one, except maybe Rozanov. And he was pretty sure Rozanov would just be pissed off at being stood up. Or: Shane goes missing before Sochi, and the only one who can save him is Ilya.
- Part 1 of Kidnapped AU
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 27,182
- Chapters:
- 11/11
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76548421
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Basically: Ilya gets concussed and the hospital calls Shane (who didn’t know that Ilya had put him down as his emergency contact) and who immediately races to Boston. (This is set during the hockey season after the last episode. They have come out to Shane’s parents and are ‘officially’ boyfriends, but Shane still plays for the Metros and Ilya still plays for Boston.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,838
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77157886
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Hockey is a rough sport. Everyone knows that. You go down, you get back up. That’s the game. When Ilya Rozanov goes down on the ice, the Boston Bears are already moving to defend their captain. No one expects Shane Hollander, captain of the Montreal Voyageurs, to be the one who throws the first punch. Ilya Rozanov loved playing against Shane Hollander almost as much as he loved fucking him. Not that anyone in the arena would ever know that—not with the way Ilya drove Shane shoulder-first into the boards now. His weight crashed in behind him a moment later, pinning him there as the plexiglass shuddered from the impact. The vibration climbed all the way up Ilya’s arms and rattled against his teeth. Shane’s breath left him in a sharp burst of white, fogging across the glass where his visor pressed flush against it. His mouth fell open on a broken sound that never quite escaped, swallowed whole by the crowd as they surged to their feet, hungry and gleeful as they turned toward the collision. Ilya felt it anyway. Felt the way Shane’s body tensed first, instinct flaring hot and defensive, then yielded when recognition set in. When his body understood exactly who had him pinned to the boards. Ilya felt Shane’s spine arch, ribs expanding under the pressure of his forearm, a helpless, involuntary offering that sent something low and dangerous coiling tight in Ilya’s gut. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to that single point of contact. Blades biting into the ice. Pads creaking beneath the fabric of their opposing jerseys—eighty-one and twenty-four. Shane was unyielding even when he was pinned, even when his weight subtly pressed back instead of away. Ilya stayed there a fraction too long. Long enough to memorize the exact moment Shane’s resistance softened without ever breaking. Long enough to feel the way Shane leaned into him, like a promise instead of a warning. Somewhere in the crowd, the cameras whined as they zoomed in, greedy to catch the moment for the viewers at home. In the booths, surrounded by those same unblinking lenses that caught every possible angle of the collision, Ilya knew the commentators had already leaned forward in their comfortable chairs. He knew they would already be dissecting yet another brutal meeting between the captains of the Montreal Voyageurs and the Boston Bears. “Oh—Rozanov’s been hunting that matchup all night,” one of the commentators said, delighted. “The captains of these two teams have a long history of rivalry on the ice. Hardly surprising to find them—” “It’s a clean hit,” the other commentator cut in. “Hollander’s not known for losing his head, but Rozanov has a way of getting under even the most level-headed guy’s skin. You can feel the tension every time these two share the ice—neither one of them ever backs down.” “Hell of a show they’re putting on for us tonight.” But on the ice, none of that mattered. The boards were bleeding cold through the layers of their padding, seeping into Shane’s shoulder, his ribs, his spine. Ilya could feel him shivering. The crowd was still on its feet, a wall of sound that blurred the edges of everything else, but the heat between them ignored it completely. Ilya’s body kept Shane pressed to the boards, unyielding even as helmets knocked together, cages scraping with a thin metallic rasp that felt far too intimate for how hard they were supposed to be hitting. It almost—almost—landed like a kiss when Shane twisted, trying to throw him off. Ilya felt every taut line of Shane’s body straining beneath him, muscles coiled and familiar in a way that loosened something dangerous in his chest even as they fought for possession over the puck. Ilya leaned in, just enough that Shane could feel his breath through the vents of his helmet. He smiled where only Shane could see it. “You skate slow today, captain,” he murmured, his accent thicker, softer. “Maybe tired from last night.” His grin turned sharp. “Should I take it easy on you?” Shane huffed a laugh that scraped out of him, rough and breathless. His shoulders shifted, instinctively angling closer even as the linesman started toward them. “Fuck off, Rozanov,” he muttered, dragging in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. The sound went straight through Ilya. And before he could stop himself, his gloved hand slid to Shane’s hip and squeezed—hard. Something reckless and private pressed into the narrow space between their pads and the noise and the regulation rules they both lived by. It shouldn’t have meant anything to anyone who noticed the touch lingered too long. It was for balance. It was instinct. A dozen excuses flared and died in Ilya’s head, because—fuck it—he wanted Shane closer. Wanted to lean in and kiss him stupid, right there against the glass. Wanted the world to finally understand what it was cheering for. Shane Hollander was his. Ilya knew his touch was too possessive. He knew he should probably pull back, create distance, or the illusion of it. But his fingers dug in harder instead, lingering too close to something that could never be explained away as incidental contact. Shane’s dark eyes snapped up, catching Ilya’s, sharp and furious and lit with something that made Ilya’s pulse stutter, like he’d misjudging a step and felt the drop a heartbeat too late. “Make me,” Ilya murmured, the words soft behind his grin. Then he slammed Shane back into the plexiglass again—just to feel it. The jolt. The way Shane’s body reacted before his pride could catch up. The involuntary sound punched out of him as their skates stuttered beneath them, blades biting and chattering against the ice as the puck bounced uselessly between their skates. Shane’s grunt slid low in his throat, a sound he only made when he was fighting for something he refused to lose. And all Ilya could think of—hot and unbidden—was last night. This exact angle. This exact body. This exact resistance that wasn’t resistance at all. Only it had been skin between them instead of gear. Hands instead of gloves. The heat of Shane’s breath breaking apart under him. The way Shane’s thighs had trembled as Ilya took his cock into his mouth. The way Shane had clung to him, arching into every thrust like he
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,320
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77390061
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Both Shane and Ilya had gotten concussions before. It was part of being a hockey player, but neither of them had ever woken up thinking they were seventeen. Of course, Shane had to change that.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 9,560
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76764096
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Eva was Ilya and Shane’s miracle child, born prematurely in the summer of their third season together on the Centaurs. The moment they laid eyes on her in the NICU of The Ottawa Hospital was the moment they both felt their life truly had purpose. Eva was smaller than the other babies but already had a head of soft blonde curls. Her tiny hands would grip Shane’s fingers as Ilya sang Russian lullabies, their favorite pastime, and her big blue eyes would marvel at the world around her. She was kind and sweet and truly an angel, which is what made it so, so terrifying when she told them at 5 years old that she wanted to play hockey like papa and daddy. - A 5+1 of Ilya and Shane’s life as parents, through the lens of their daughter’s experiences with hockey.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,240
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77328336
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Take Back The Night by Indigo2831
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-07
Totally worth it, Shane thought as he gazed at a gleeful Ilya Rosanov, all toothy grin and gleaming blue eyes as he reeled in his first ever caught fish. Even though the searing sunlight intensified the mild headache he’d woken up with into something monstrous. -OR- Shane tries to hide a headache in order to take Ilya fishing, and it goes about as well as you'd imagine. Missing scenes for 1.06, The Cottage.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,594
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77244721
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This has to be a nightmare. Ilya is convinced it must be. Because there is no way that what he’s watching happen is real life. The SUV ahead of him, the one that is carrying Shane, is swerving out of control, having hit a patch of black ice. The driver in Ilya’s vehicle has already hit the brakes, their SUV skidding to a stop. But the one in front of them is still going. And then Ilya can’t do anything but watch as it suddenly flips. Once, twice, a third time before it drags across the road, still upside down. Finally, it comes to a stop. The Centaurs end up in a car accident on a snowy drive.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,000
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77223276
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You Have Reached Lily by ItsMayBiTheWay
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-06
Hayden finds Lily’s contact and touches the little call button. After a short time, the call connects. “Shane,” a breathless sound reaches his ear, a broken heavy Russian accent cut off by a choked up sob. “You scared me.” Hayden hangs up. OR Hayden calls Lily after Shane’s injury
- Part 1 of Hayden Pike Hockey-matic Universe
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,729
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 3 versions
- AO3:
- #77222266
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like a lullaby by heartsopenminds
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-05
hayden had no clue why ilya fucking rozanov of all people was in shane's room when he arrived at the hospital, but thanks to his best friend's lack of filter on a hefty dose of painkillers, it doesn't take him long to find out. The hospital room door closed softly behind him as Hayden walked towards the bed. He was frowning, still trying to figure out why he'd had to wait while Ilya fucking Rozanov of all people visited Shane before him. Shane's eyes were half-lidded, glazed with a cocktail of painkillers, a dreamy smile plastered across his face. "So," Hayden started, his voice cautious. "That was... weird. Ilya Rozanov here in your hospital room. For like, ten whole minutes. What the hell was that about?" "Oh hey, Hayden. Heeeeeyyyy-den, " Shane said in a sing-song voice. "He came to check on me. Isn't he the sweetest?" Hayden stared at his best friend. "Sweetest? Shane, buddy, the doctors said you had a concussion, not a personality transplant. That was Rozanov. The guy who plays like he wants to murder us. I don't think he even has a 'sweet' setting." "Oh, pfff," Shane sighed, waving a hand dismissively. The movement was loose and uncoordinated. "That’s just his game face. Like Batman. But underneath? Total marshmallow. He was really worried about me. I wanted to hold his hands to stop them shaking so much, but he was paranoid about the nurses coming in, I could tell." Hayden pulled the visitor’s chair closer and sat down very slowly, as if making any sudden movements might worsen Shane's apparent delirium. "You... wanted to hold hands? With Rozanov? I’m gonna need a minute here." "I thought he might speak to me in Russian," Shane continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial, affectionate whisper. "It's nice when he does that. You know how his voice gets all deep and rumbly? It vibrates right in your chest. It's relaxing, like a cat purring. A really big, angry cat." "I'm not sure anything about that guy counts as relaxing," Hayden said doubtfully. "No, s'nice," Shane insisted, his brow furrowing slightly at Hayden’s lack of understanding. "Soft, like a lullaby. I could listen all day. Like the voice notes he sends. You know, the ones you make fun of because they're so long." Hayden paused. "The voice notes? From Lily, you mean." Shane rolled his eyes, a dramatic motion of annoyance. "Yes, from Lily. He sends the long voice notes when he's stressed. We talked about this." "We talked about Lily," Hayden’s voice was faint. "The girl you've been sexting for years. The one you always see when we're - " Hayden stared blankly at the wall. The pieces were suddenly fitting together in his mind, regardless of how much he didn't like the picture they were forming. "Lily... is Ilya. Your Lily is Ilya Rozanov." Shane let out a huff of laughter. "Well, yeah. You think I have two high-maintenance hockey obsessives who text me at all hours? I do not have the energy for that. I mean, sometimes I don't have the energy for one, with all the late nights and the sneaking around, " Shane continued, oblivious to Hayden's spiralling crisis. "But it's worth it. It’s actually really romantic. Like a spy movie." "A spy movie," Hayden repeated, his voice muffled by his palms. "Yeah." Shane shifted, wincing slightly, but the smile never left his face. "You know the grey hoodie he wears? The one with the bleach stain on the cuff?" "I can't say I've ever noticed." "Well that’s his 'Lily' hoodie," Shane said, his eyes sparkling with a secret he thought they already shared. "For when we have to be all stealthy. I love that hoodie. It smells like his cologne and hotel soap. It makes me think of stairwells, or service elevators, or..." Hayden looked up, horrified. "Service elevators? You’re meeting up with the captain of the Boston Raiders in service elevators?" "Well, and hotel rooms, obviously," Shane retorted. "Sometimes my place. Or his. He made us tuna melts." "Tuna melts," Hayden repeated. This was the detail that broke him, he realised afterwards. Not the sex, not the secrecy, but the fucking sandwiches. "He acts like he’s this big tough guy," Shane says dreamily. " 'I am Ilya Rozanov, I am machine' but he takes such good care of me, Hayds." Shane’s energy began to flag as the conversation drained the last of his reserves. He sank deeper into the pillows, his eyelids fluttering. "He called me, you know," Shane mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "From Moscow. After the funeral." Hayden softened at the mention of Ilya's loss. "He called you?" "Yeah. He was so sad. About his dad, about a lot of things. He told me he loved me." Hayden froze. "He said it in Russian," Shane said. "But I knew. I could feel it. He thinks he always has be alone, but he doesn't. I’m gonna marry him one day, H. We’re gonna get a house and he’s gonna make me sandwiches and we’re gonna be so boring. You'll come visit, right? You and Jackie and the kids?" "You love him," Hayden murmured. It wasn't a question. "Yeah," Shane sighed, a long, contented exhale, his eyes finally closing. "Don't tell him that though, cos we haven't said it yet. He’s my very favourite person. He likes to think he’s
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,042
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77165906
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"One second, Ilya was soaring across the ice, misdirecting the Montreal player that was on his tail, and the next he was knocked off his skates, falling face first into the ice. There was a sickening crack as his helmet slammed against the ice and he saw stars, blinding pain flashing across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose." Hollanov hurt/comfort one shot! Ilya gets laid out during a game against Montreal, and Shane shows up at his apartment to take care of him. Very fluffy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,650
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76983481
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Instead of Shane, it is Ilya who suffers a concussion during the Boston-Montreal game in April 2017. Dazed and agitated, Ilya briefly starts speaking and responding only in Russian and the medics can’t calm him down. Luckily, Shane started studying Russian after Ilya spoke to him in Russian on the phone from Moscow. For no particular reason. Certainly not because he’s fallen in love with Ilya Rozanov.
In Montreal with lingering concussion symptoms, Ilya is advised not to fly home for a few days, and the hospital won’t release him without assurances that he has someone to stay with him until his symptoms improve. Luckily, Shane conveniently has a condo in Montreal no one knows about and a few days before he has to travel again.
But Ilya’s symptoms don’t resolve after a few days. Which is okay; Shane can handle it. He can take care of Ilya, study Russian, lead his team into the playoffs, and keep Ilya’s continued presence in Montreal a secret. He can do everything, no problem. He is Shane Hollander after all.
or
A whump fanfiction that is secretly a fix-it.
- Part 1 of Return-to-Play
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 49,003
- Chapters:
- 20/20
- Files:
- 9 versions
- AO3:
- #75757396
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Ilya went down. Hard. Or What happens when Ilya is injured in a game but Shane and Ilya aren't out yet?
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,421
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76856586
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