1 – 20 of 23 Works in Overstimulated Shane Hollander

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  1. Shane Hollander is in a slump. As the captain of arguably the most dominant team in the NHL, he couldn’t afford to have off days, but lately, he just couldn’t seem to pull himself out of it. The pressure was finally starting to catch up. So, when his friend stupidly suggests that he needed to get laid, he knew realistically he just didn't have the time...so he goes onto a porn site instead.

    Or,

    Shane Hollander can't relax, Ilya Rozanov, without knowing, helps him out.

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    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #92895931
  2. Shane was craving control, craving submission. There was a multitude of things that he couldn’t change, things that he had to step away from. And it had been worth it, worth it to have Ilya in his bed every morning with their little bear sleeping in his crib. To be able to curl up in their nest to breastfeed, watching hockey highlights on their flat-screen television that Ilya had insisted on getting. Shane swallowed, lifting his chin as he pushed Ilya down, strong thighs bracketing his torso, “Hold onto something, Rozanov.” Ilya was on him a second, grabbing Shane around the hips, flipping him over until he was facing Ilya’s feet, bare ass in Ilya’s face. Shane gasped out, the sound collapsing into a whimper as Ilya slipped a finger between his slick folds, rubbing at the entrance of his cunt, “Looks like mommy is getting a little cocky, yes?” he murmured, “I think you will be the one who is holding on." Or Post-partum Shane finally gets what he wants (cock!)

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    AO3:
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  3. Ilya’s voice dimmed, “Shane, what’s going on? Are you okay?” he sounded eager, but also sounded like that he would wait years if Shane even gave him one word in return. Shane aggressively shook his head, the hum only growing. “I need to-“ No. No, this wasn’t happening. He wouldn’t let this happen. Shane slowly sunk down to the kitchen floor, feeling the nooks in the drawers of the counters scratch against his back while his eyes shut tightly. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t a fucking baby. Shane was strong. And he was strong enough to make this stop. OR: Shane Hollander experiences a meltdown infront of Ilya.

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    AO3:
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  4. Hayden and Jackie exchange a glance. “Have you noticed anything . . . different . . . about Arthur?” Hayden asks. Now it’s Shane and Ilya’s turn to exchange a glance. Shane shrugs. “Not really,” he says. “He’s kind of just like I was when I was a kid. Maybe being quiet is a bit odd for this family, but it’s not abnormal.” He expects Ilya to back him up, but Ilya hesitates. “He does not play like his sisters,” Ilya says. Shane looks at Ilya out of the corner of his eye. Clearly he’s missed something. Ilya isn’t making jokes, which means something about this conversation is serious. “You’re not worried about him, are you?” Shane asks. “No, no, no,” Jackie says. “We weren’t worried at all, actually, because he’s so similar to you. But, well, his preschool teachers pointed out some things and we looked into it a bit, and we ended up getting him tested. And, well. He’s autistic.” or Arthur Pike gets diagnosed with autism. Shane has some revelations. 9/13/2026 Update: I have now poisoned this fic to protect against AI scraping. The real word count is 6,714.

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    AO3:
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  5. Salve by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • E
    • ✓

    2026-08-10

    Ilya Rozanov was starting over. His mother was long dead, his father had finally passed, and his brother didn’t want him around anymore. Moscow was nothing but dead bodies and fading memories and scars that just wouldn’t heal.
    Enter Shane Hollander.
    *Laceration, from Ilya’s POV

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    AO3:
    #90234501
  6. There, in an overhung area that had been initially blocked from view, was what could only be described as a Greek god in Adidas track pants and La Sportiva Solutions. The god was hanging off a purple sloper with his left arm, shaking out and chalking up casually with his right. Shane barely noticed himself taking a few steps forward as he squinted at the grade. V9. Shane watched as the climber matched his hands and then carefully rotated on his toe to dip his left hand back into the chalk bag swinging at his hips. A little puff of chalk exploded out onto the man’s bare lower back, an area Shane had been trying to ignore, as he always tried to ignore the muscled backs of the bros who tore off their shirt as soon as they got in the gym. His eyes drifted upward, taking in the impressive lats, flexing and glistening with a sheen of sweat, and all the way up to the tousled blonde hair...

    What the fuck. Was that…? Shane blanched as he realized that he recognized the climber. He wasn’t a Greek god at all. He was Russian. And not a god either, but that was besides the point. It was Ilya Rozanov, the top male youth boulderer in Russia, winner of last year’s IFSC Youth World Championship, where Shane had gotten 4th place.

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    AO3:
    #82153141
  7. Things like this didn't happen to other people; Shane knew that. He’d been alive long enough to experience the confused glances and exasperated scoffs that always accompanied his discomfort with things other people didn't even notice. He would not fuck this up – not because he couldn't handle the way the sheets touched his skin. The burning of his skin spread to his eyes as his vision blurred. He squeezed his eyes shut and scrubbed his hands over his face. He would not cry. The tears fell hot and silent. They pooled at the curve of his jaw and around his chin, puddles of shame and self-contempt. Fucking breathe, he told himself, as he turned the faucet of the shower as far as it could go. He stood watching the water pool around his feet and slip down the drain until he heard Ilya stir. At first, he wasn't sure if he had really heard his name. “Shane?… Shane?” He wanted to yell back, assure Ilya everything was fine, but when he opened his mouth, only a squeak escaped. “Moya lyubov?” He cleared his throat and tried again: “In here.”

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    AO3:
    #87399531
  8. Shane shouldn't care about what the Centaurs have to say about sex life years into marriage. They say it's normal for it to get boring, and he can't help but disagree with how far from the truth that statement is. Until he sees Ilya laughing with Haas about it. That's when he starts to spiral. or: Shane thinks Ilya finds their sex life boring. Ilya thinks he's insane. They fuck about it.

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    1
    AO3:
    #87250981
  9. One day the drawers in Shane's kitchen turned on him. One by one they all turned squeaky and slow. And of course, the fucking repair guy is on vacation for the next week and a half. or. Overstimulated Shane and Softy Sweety Ilya. Shane stood at the stove stirring oatmeal with slow, methodical motions while Ilya leaned against the island in a pair of sweatpants that should have been retired years ago. “Too many blueberries, relax.” Shane said without looking up. “There is no such thing.” “There absolutely is when you are feeding all of them to the dog.” Anya looked up immediately at the sound of her title, enormous brown eyes alert and hopeful. The tiny girl sat perfectly between Ilya’s feet, tail brushing rapidly against the hardwood. “She is starving. my poor baby” Ilya informed him solemnly. “She ate breakfast already.” “She is growing girl.” “She’s six.” “Still growing, where you done growing at six? Did not think so.” Shane snorted quietly. Ilya grinned at the sound. It had been almost two months since they’d gotten married and somehow mornings still felt strange in the best possible way. Domesticity had settled over their lives slowly. It was coffee mugs left beside the sink. Grocery lists. Arguing over laundry settings until Shane pouted and Ilya caved. Falling asleep together every night without worrying who might find out. It was oatmeal on a Tuesday morning. Shane liked routines. He liked knowing what came next. His therapist called it grounding structure. Shane called it not feeling insane all the time. Ilya understood that now in a way he hadn’t ten years ago. “Did you answer Hayden?” Shane asked. “Mhm.” “What did he say about dinner Friday?” “He says if we make quinoa again he is not coming.” “That was one time.” “And it was awful the one time.” “You had three servings.” “Because I was hungry, not because quinoa deserves to be in my mouth, unlike other things.” Shane rolled his eyes. Anya huffed dramatically when no more blueberries appeared. “Oh, now she suffers.” Ilya murmured sympathetically, crouching to scratch behind her ears. “Cruel father deprives tiny princess.” “She’s getting to big.” “She is sturdy.” “She’s twelve pounds.” “Is all muscle. Isn't it малышка.” The oatmeal thickened enough for Shane’s liking. He turned the burner down and reached automatically toward the silverware drawer. The moment he pulled it open, the drawer let out a violent high-pitched shriek. It was sharp and metallic and unbearably loud. The sound ripped through the kitchen. Shane screamed. A full, horrified scream tore out of him as his entire body seized. It was like being burned. If had heard this in public he might have grimaced and bit into his lip way too hard, but he was at home. He could do this. The drawer slammed shut hard enough to rattle the cabinets. “Oh, fuck.” Ilya blurted. Shane had already stumbled backward, hands flying over his ears. His breathing turned ragged instantly, face drained white beneath the freckles scattered across his nose. “Shanya—” “Nope.” His voice cracked harshly. “Nope nope nope.”

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  10. shane: ok so ur an intruder and you sneak into my house while im sleeping on the night of my birthday and torture me sexually for hours ilya: shane- shane: and you fuck my mouth and cum in it then duct tape it shut so i have no choice but to swallow it

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    AO3:
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  11. Shane was still trying to settle Max, cupping the back of his head, pressing him back against his chest. Body warmth, familiar scent—that was supposed to be enough. That was supposed to be some innate thing, some animalistic pull newborns had toward their parents, hardwired in them from the beginning. Shane had read that. He was pretty sure he had read that. It was probably really bad that his baby didn't have it toward him. Or, Shane is not bonding with his new baby.

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    AO3:
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  12. Shane fucking Hollander. Hockey’s Golden Boy. Long-time crush of Ilya Rozanov. Long, looooong time. A decade of being a fucking simp for this man. God, he was in trouble.

    It should be pretty much illegal to go from their only contact being at face-off across the ice, to suddenly hosting Shane in his exclusive club—during a fucking event, no less. Ilya’s event.

    He would never admit it, but he’s been stealthily trying to get Hollander to show up at his club for years now. Hell, Shane was the whole reason he invested in the club in the first place. Bought a fucking house here. Maybe that was an insane thing to do, but he didn’t care. Ilya was insane. Insane for Shane.

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    3 versions
    AO3:
    #80376461
  13. "Where's Rose?" Shane asked, the confusion in his tone obvious, but 'Ilya' didn't buy it. Or didn't care to.

    "Ah, i see. This is .. foreplay."

    Shane's lips parted in disbelief.

    "Foreplay?" He practically squeaked, his voice a pitch higher and riddled with concern. For both his friends safety and because— is this person flirting with him?

    Or NHL star Shane Hollander accidentally calls a sex hotline and Ilya Rozanov answers.

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  14. After their first hookup, Shane realizes Ilya is going to want more from him eventually. He should be ready.

    OR

    Shane buys a dildo and it’s Ilya’s fault.

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  15. “Fu-uck,” the man above him coos. “There you go, pretty boy. See? That wasn’t so hard." Shane whines from beneath the tape as the fingers that were wrapped around him come up to brush against his face. “I am going to take the tape off,” says his captor. “But if you fucking scream, that will be the last thing you ever do. You understand?” Shane goes looking for his husband around the cottage and gets more than he bargained for.

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  16. Ilya doesn't want to like it when Shane says no, but he really, really does.

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  17. When the Hollanders face a financial crisis that might end in bankruptcy, Shane finds himself agreeing to a deal that forces him into proximity with his archenemy to save his parents' legacy.

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  18. Shane exhaled sharply. "I want you to chase me through the woods." Ilya's fingers stilled in Shane's hair. "Like a race?" His voice was calm, but Shane could feel the way his chest tensed beneath his cheek. Shane shook his head. "No." The word came out breathless, half swallowed against Ilya's collarbone. or Shane proposes a fantasy and something about it hits too close to home for Ilya. How will they get past it?

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  19. “Are you gonna hurt me?” “Baby, I would never hurt you.” Shane couldn’t take his eyes off the other man, the atmosphere in the room layered with fear and heat and something deeper, something almost primal. Like prey caught between the teeth of its predator. 🗡 Or: scream au ft. freak4freak hollanov and slight ilya whump!

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    AO3:
    #81397361
  20. Laceration by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • E
    • ✓

    2026-03-12

    Shane Hollander was perfect; the perfect son, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect friend. He had spent years refining perfection, making sure he was the picture of it. It was second nature after all these years; a suit that didn’t quite fit, but that he’d gotten used to.
    Enter Ilya Rozanov.

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    English
    Words:
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    Files:
    1
    AO3:
    #81052751
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