4001 – 4020 of 4,146 Works in Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid

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  1. The Hit by

    Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
    • T
    • ✓

    2025-07-15

    Ilya blinked. His vision was still swimming, and he was vaguely aware of the medics at his side, but all he could focus on was Shane. Shane, who had just lost his goddamn mind for him.

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    2 versions
    AO3:
    #67384929
  2. Ilya Rozanov is a single dad who's just trying to live his life and be the best dad he can. He never thought that love was for him until he has a chance encounter with pro hockey player Shane Hollander at a hotel bar in Vegas...

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    AO3:
    #66924475
  3. Ilya comes home to a surprise.

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  4. “So.” Shane started, he huffed a shy little laugh and found it odd, why was he being this way? “Sooo?” Ilya drawled and began to saunter over to his husband. Shane took a step back when Ilya neared him. Ilya didn’t stop, and Shane ended up pressed against the door. “How exhausted are you?” Ilya asked, and Shane noticed the tell-tale smirk. “Not at all. You?” Ilya shook his head in response, “Nope.” His hands slid up the door, caging Shane in, which made him swallow thickly. “I want to make love to you tonight, Hollander.” Shane’s entire body buzzed with anticipation and joy. “But first…do you want more cake?” Shane swooped in to kiss him, because he just needed to, or else he’d burst, “Yes. Cake. Then come ravage me.”

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  5. “What did they say?” Ilya asks mildly, though Shane is sure Ilya can read on his face that it isn’t good news. “We haven’t been upgraded to the honeymoon suite,” Shane teases as he runs a hand through his hair. He moves to sit on the couch beside Ilya, and scritches right between Anya’s ears, which causes the content pup to rest her head against Ilya’s thigh. “Powerline is down near the restaurant and they’ve lost power. They said they’ll get us rescheduled as soon as possible,” he says with a little shrug. ----- When a thunderstorm changes their plans on their fourth wedding anniversary, Shane and Ilya have to do some quick thinking.

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  6. Shane was starting to sweat a little with nerves, second-guessing his plan, not feeling nearly as brave as he did when he made the decision to do this at dinner.

    “What is it?” Ilya asked as he opened the box. He held up a small plastic remote control with two buttons, turning it in his hand, trying to find an indication of what it was for.

    Extremely gratuitous anniversary dinner smut.

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    AO3:
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  7. MINE by

    Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
    • T
    • ✓

    2025-07-08

    Shane may be unaware of exactly how beautiful he is, but Ilya isn't. Neither, to Ilya's frustration, is the overeager reporter who is currently interviewing his husband. Good thing Ilya has no problem reminding everyone exactly who Shane belongs to.

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  8. Ilya and Shane talking with friends after dealing with the press, then Shane helps Ilya relax. Part of a day through Ilya's POV focusing on his relationship with speaking English, and also times he doesn't need to use it, and when he doesn't need words at all “You’ve had many brilliant moments on the ice, but when people ask what the best day of your career has been, you say it was the day you got drafted. Why is that?” Maria Sellings said with a smile. She sat across from Ilya in one of the many small nooks set up in the convention hall for interviews. Whatever site or podcast she worked for was a smaller one and most players didn’t bother talking to her, but Ilya liked that she asked good questions. Sometimes reporters asked him dumb questions even if he’d answered the same question hundreds of times, or had avoided answering hundreds of time. She never did that. He liked this question in particular. “It is hard to say when things started between Shane and myself. I could give many answers, all true in one way or another. We spent some time together, the night after the draft.” Ilya remembered the way Shane had stared at him, the way he’d reacted to the slightest touch. Even though they’d barely spoken, barely touched, that night had burned in both their minds for months afterwards. “One morning he told me, he should have known from that moment, that we’d never be able to let go of each other. Later that day, I had a press conference and was still thinking of him. Someone asked about the best day I’d had in the NHL, so I said that day.” She blinked, clearly surprised by the answer, so he kept talking. “People say it was me being humble, always saying that, so grateful to be in the NHL. I love NHL, but I earned my place. It was not a gift. Though, being drafted into the same division as Shane, put on teams where we’d play so much, that perhaps was a gift.” “All this time you were talking about Shane Hollander, and the day that linked your careers together?” “I could not tell the world I loved him in words they could understand, so I said it in words they could not understand. I said it thousands of times over the years. I needed to say it.” He remembered when he’d been in Russia and spoke Russian to Shane, back before Shane knew a word of it. Shane had given him an outlet for his feelings, and he’d been doing a variation on the same thing ever since. He wanted to tell that story, but not today. He’d already wrestled a number of complicated ideas into English. “Can you tell us any other ways you’ve said it?” Ilya made a broad gesture with his hand. “It’s everywhere, in my interviews and posts. Just look and you will begin to see.” He would have explained a few of his cryptic images, but this was his last interview of the day and he was getting tired. She smiled and lobbed him a few softball questions about the upcoming All Star events. Once the interview was done, Ilya went to join Shane and some of their friends. Shane had rented a private area near the hotel’s pool just for them, Scott, Kip, Troy and Harris. Troy hadn’t been selected to play in the games, but Ilya and Shane where both entitled to bring a guest. They’d used the spots to bring their friends. They wanted Troy to get a chance to get to better get to know Scott and his partner and bring Harris further into their little circle of queer hockey player friends, so they’d arranged a little corner of the strip just for them. Scott had been surprised and grateful when they told him the plans. Kip rarely traveled to games because he’d wind up spending a lot of time bored or dodging reporters. Having a place to hide on press day and people in their little growing queer hockey community to hang out with made Kip decide to come along this time. Scott was elated to get more time with him. Ilya wished all of the queer couples they knew could all be here, but gathering at least some of them together felt good. He was glad the All-Star Games were back in Las Vegas. He loved the city. He’d love it just for the noise, the luxury, the food and people dressing sexy, but there was more to it than that. Somewhere along the strip, behind one of the tens of thousands of hotel room windows glinting in the bright afternoon sun, in a massive suite, he’d made a very special memory with Shane, one that at the time had felt so painful. How shamelessly Shane had indulged him by touching himself, going along with Ilya’s commands, that night still made his blood run hot, even though longing for more had torn at his heart. They were finally living together and out, but that was still new to them, just a handful of months after over a decade of keeping secrets. The massive, overwhelming stress that ruled their lives was gone, but Shane often joked that his nerves still hadn’t gotten the memo. Years in the closet had left marks of both of them, different marks, but marks all the same. Sometimes, it felt like it was just yesterday that they were hiding and Ilya was struggling with a painful loneliness he didn’t know how to talk about. He needed to go find his husband and breathe him in. He needed to kiss him in front of people. He swung by their room to change into swim trunks and took the stairs down, not wanting to wait on an elevator. He walked past the massive pool surrounded by lounge chairs and curtained daybeds. The area Shane had rented was called a cabana and seemed to be a cross between a tent and a patio. Drapes of white fabric and tall plants gave them a measure of privacy while still having easy access to everything. Through the entrance, he could see Shane laying back in what looked like a giant wicker bowl filled with cushions. He ignored the others for the moment and launched himself at his husband, half landing on him. Even though it was winter, it was still Vegas so Shane’s skin had a slight sheen of sweat and smelled good, like he’d just started a work out. Salt, seaweed and the comforting scent of Shane that was so deeply imprinted into his brain flooded his mind. He took a deep breath to center himself. Shane was solid and warm and leaning into him, like he knew what Ilya needed. Once Ilya relaxed, they grabbed and pushed at each other until Shane was tucked under his arm. They were half snuggled close and half sprawled out to not overheat, legs falling however was comfortable, bottles of beer and various appetizers in easy reach. Harris’ laughter almost covered up Scott’s good natured complaining about Ilya’s antics.

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  9. It was a Tuesday morning in late December, and Shane was mid-protein smoothie when his phone buzzed with a surprising notification. A direct message from Troy Barrett, who he had never met or talked to. But he followed back when Troy followed him, mostly out of curiosity. And it was definitely weird to be getting a message from him.

    Remember when Troy thought about asking for Shane's phone number? What would have happened if he actually acted on it?

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  10. Ilya said something absolutely preposterous while fucking Shane. And now it's been a week and Shane still doesn't know how to feel about it. He is confused, but also terribly curious to explore this more...

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  11. Days like today, Ilya's heart felt heavy. Like there was a dense paperweight or heavy stone pressing down on it. Deep in his gut, it felt like a tender bruise, so far inside that he couldn’t reach it, but its presence was powerful. It was the emotional equivalent of how his body felt after the playoffs, totally beaten down and sore everywhere. It was a deeply permeating sense of despair.

    quick little Ilya depression fic, with comfort from his caring husband.

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    AO3:
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  12. She gets the stencil on and tells him to go look in the mirror, which he does. For a minute Shane just stares at the purple temporary ink, admiring the script she chose, the way that the simple design has been elegantly executed. It’s perfect, and he’s already in love with it. It’s not even on his body and he’s sold. Shocking, considering he’d been on the verge of an anxious breakdown minutes before. But his decision is steeled, and now that he sees it on his body, this feels right. “How do you like it?” She asks from her booth, and Shane turns, looking at himself in the mirror for an extra second before retreating back to where Alex is. “It’s perfect,” he says sincerely. She smiles proudly and nods. “Great! Lets get started, then.” ----- Or, the one where Shane gets a commemorative Ilya Rozanov tattoo.

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  13. Ilya woke up in a hospital room. He didn't know how he got there or where there was. He wasn't alone. An older, more relaxed, Shane Hollander was sitting at his bedside. Nothing made sense, it was all too good to be true. Slowly, it all started to come back to him.

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    AO3:
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  14. Shane Hollander finds that he cannot sleep and he isn't the only one. But this isn't going to be like all the other nights he spends in Ilya Rozanov's bed.

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  15. Shane: why do you keep licking guys during games? what’s wrong with you?

    Lily: aw hollander are you jealous?

    Ilya starts a habit of licking players on other teams during games, and Shane really doesn't appreciate it. But Ilya saves some licking just for him.

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  16. A post-workout quickie makes them late for team dinner. Ilya’s fine. Shane is glowing. So is their server—who apparently didn’t get the memo that Shane is very, very taken. They were fifteen minutes late to team dinner. Technically, it wasn’t Ilya’s fault. Not really. Sure, Shane had been the one doing his usual post-skate stretch in their home gym—but those tiny, low-slung shorts, the ones that cupped his ass like they were tailored by the gods? That had been entirely premeditated. Shane had definitely been showing off. Ilya, being a good husband, had responded in kind. One thing led to another—specifically, Shane on his back next to a rack of dumbbells—and then a not-at-all quick shower followed. So yes. They were late. Shane was stressed. But he also had that flushed, post-orgasm glow that made Ilya want to drag him right back home again. They arrived at the restaurant slightly breathless, hand-in-hand. The rest of the Centaurs were already seated, drinks in hand, and Bood was the first to comment. “Well, well. We thought you two weren’t gonna make it. You’ve got… a glow.” Shane turned a deep shade of red. Ilya just smirked. But the smirk faded fast. Because as they scanned the long table, they realized something was off. There weren’t any seats left beside each other. The team always saved them two spots together. Always. Shane hesitated, subtle panic flashing across his face. He didn’t like being late. He didn’t like being separated. He definitely didn’t like the uncertainty of having to choose a new seat mid- social interaction. Wyatt, across from them, was already halfway to his feet. “I can move.” Ilya started to wave him off. “No, no. It’s fine. We’re capable of sitting apart,” he said with mock dramatics, shooting Shane a teasing look. “Even if my husband is boring without me.” Shane gave him a annoyed look. He ended up sliding into the open seat between Wyatt and Troy. Ilya took a spot a few chairs down between Dykstra and Bood, not thrilled, but willing to play it cool. Until the server arrived. He was young. Polished. Friendly. And apparently unaware that Shane Hollander was both married and extremely taken. Ilya watched with narrowed eyes as the guy lingered a little too long when taking Shane’s drink order, smiling a little too widely, his hand resting just a little too casually on the back of Shane’s chair. Shane, being Shane, was utterly oblivious. “Could I get a root beer?” Shane asked, polite as ever. “Absolutely,” the server replied, voice warm. “And if you think of anything else you want… just let me know. Anything at all.” He winked at Shane. Ilya blinked. Dykstra choked on his water. Shane didn’t even flinch, already turning to ask Wyatt something about the appetizer menu. By the time the server returned for entrée orders, the energy was unmistakable. He leaned toward Shane again. “Still deciding?” the server asked, voice dropping into something close to a purr. He leaned in, eyes fixed on Shane. “No pressure. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.” He muttered—slow, deliberate. “Unless you want me to.” Shane smiled politely, completely unaware. “I’ll have the salmon, please.” The server jotted it down, but didn’t move right away—his gaze lingered just a second too long before he finally turned and walked off. Wyatt shot Ilya a look across the table. Bood looked like he was trying not to laugh. Even Troy glanced at Ilya and mouthed, Yikes. Ilya stood up. “Wyatt,” he said calmly, “trade seats with me.” Wyatt didn’t even hesitate. As Ilya made his way around the table, the conversations quieted just a bit. Not a lot. Just enough. Ilya slid into the seat next to Shane, reached under the table to pull Shane’s chair closer, and laced their fingers together on the tabletop for everyone—including their overly friendly server—to see. Shane blinked down at their joined hands, then looked at Ilya. “What’s going on?” Troy snorted. “Apparently you’ve been getting flirted with all night. Looks like Ilya is staking his claims.” Shane’s eyes widened. “What? No, he was just being nice.” “He was offering you his entire night,” Ilya muttered, glaring in the direction the server had gone.

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  17. "I don't know, I only just noticed, I didn't—" "We would've heard if it fell on the dock, right? The clunk?" Shane's heart broke a little, because it meant Ilya had finally come to the same realization as him. The crucifix was in the water. Ilya’s chain breaks without him noticing. Shane comes to the rescue.

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  18. All important conversations are happening in bed, under the cover of the night.

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  19. Ottawa faces Montreal in the first round of the playoffs during Shane's first season with the Centaurs, and Ilya rewards him for playing well after the game. Loosely based on real events in the 2024-2025 NHL playoffs.

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    AO3:
    #66767569
  20. “And you’ve done amazing things for the Cen…. You’re thinking Ottawa. You’re thinking the two of us on the Centaurs together.” Shane felt startled. “You are not?” “It’s… Oh my god. It could be. We could be amazing together.” Ilya’s eyebrows both lifted. “Could be? We definitely are. And on the ice, too.” In which Ilya and Shane announce their relationship on their own timeline, even though it gets a little accelerated by events.

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    AO3:
    #66658579
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