5701 – 5720 of 6,523 Works in Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

  • Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov ×
  1. “Someone you really like came to visit you today?” the nurse repeats. “That’s wonderful, Mr. Hollander.” Never in his life has Ilya blushed. Russians do not do this. If they did, though, Ilya would be doing it now. “Is it someone special?” ---------------- (Shane is high as a kite from painkillers. Ilya lingers after he leaves his room to make sure Shane doesn't give them away. Missing scene from Episode 5)

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  2. Ilya’s smirk grew. “Whoever wins MVP gets anything they want.” Shane’s brows furrowed. “Anything?” “Anything,” Ilya repeated, his eyes gleaming. “If you win, you can ask for anything you want.” A thrill went down his spine. “And I’m guessing you already have something in mind if you’ve suggested this bet.” Instead of responding, Ilya leaned down and kissed him—a filthy, obscene kiss that left his dick twitching pathetically against his thigh despite the fact he was completely spent. “You will see, Hollander.” “You’re on, Rozanov.” And, at the time, Shane really did feel good about his chances—orgasm haze aside. Now, standing in the bathroom of a Vegas hotel suite, he almost cursed his own damn competitiveness. . Or, a bet was made and Shane is a good sportsman. That is the only reason he is putting on Rozanov's jersey. Promise.

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  3. Shane didn’t tell his parents until the lease was already signed. “Oh, by the way,” he said, shoving a spearing of carbonara into his mouth, “the guy I’m rooming with is an alpha.” Yuna was scrolling through Facebook, so it took a moment for her to register what Shane had said. His father, however, furrowed his brows and frowned. “What?” David leaned forward, hand reaching toward his son as if to pull him off a cliff. “Why in the world would you room with an alpha?” Yuna’s eyes darted up. “What?” David repeated, “He just said he’s—” “Rooming with an alpha, yes, I heard.” Yuna unceremoniously dropped her phone on the table. She made a quick scan of the restaurant before speaking, as if worried someone would overhear that her unmated omega son had agreed to live alone with an alpha. Shane loved his parents, he did. He loved having an alpha mother and a beta father, and he knew they adored him back. But it didn’t change the fact that they sometimes let their biases seep through. “That’s not safe, Shane.” ///// Shane meets his scent-kryptonite in the form of Ilya Rozanov.

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  4. He doesn’t put much faith in luck as a concept. He doesn’t believe in guardian angels, barely believes in the god whose cross he wears around his neck. The only invisible force watching over him is his own goddamned sense of self-preservation. He shrugs. “Oh, is like Russian swear. I don’t think there is a good word for it in English.” or, Bilingualism is Hard When You are Bisexual, Impulsive, and Very, Very Stupid

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  5. When a devastating call from Moscow interrupts a routine practice, Ilya Rozanov’s world tilts on its axis. His brother is dead, and his ten-year-old niece, Sofia, is left alone with nobody by her side Ilya knows he is the only one who can save her from the state system, but the Russian Federation doesn't recognize his marriage—in fact, it disqualifies him. -Compleated- Please note I didn't have a beta reader and my English is not the best I PROMISE THEY DONT BREAK UP THEY JUST GET DIVORCED BC FUCK RUSSIA

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  6. Shane had been looking at Ilya. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, like a pinball in his head, banging from corner to corner, and he couldn’t slow it down, even as he tried to focus on the game still taking place in front of him. “Rozanov!” he heard his name distantly. He was staring at the place where Shane had been, unconscious on the ice. He saw him when he closed his eyes, his crumpled figure, his stick clattering away from him. Him looking back at Ilya, not seeing Marly coming. Time slowing down, Ilya being too slow. He couldn’t get to him, couldn’t make a noise. He could only watch, watch the collision, watch Shane hit the ice like a ton of bricks. Or, Shane is looking at Ilya when he gets injured. And all Ilya can do is feel guilty.

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  7. Shane never feels more at peace than the moment that Rozanov pushes into him.

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  8. Learning Curve by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
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    2025-12-21

    Ilya Rozanov studies Shane Hollander's every move. He likes to learn. He learns Shane Hollander the way he learns systems.

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  9. Ilya Rozanov hated western Christmas with every part of his orthodox communist soul. Not that those two things could logically coexist, of course. “Are you sure we have to make this?” Shane eyed the biggest pack of mayonnaise he had ever seen like it had personally offended him. Which it probably had. “Oh yes,” Ilya nodded enthusiastically, unloading canned tuna (fine), eggs (fine), fake crab sticks (thin ice), herring (what?), more mayonnaise— “You're going to murder me,” Shane's forehead pressed into its favorite spot between Ilya's shoulder blades. “I'm feeling ten pounds heavier just from looking at this.” “Is authentic Russian experience,” Ilya deadpanned. or Hollanov's 5-step guide to the perfect winter holidays.

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  10. “Just… teach me the basics first,” he managed to get out as he leaned forward with his notebook, “you’ll, uh, find out. Eventually.” He used his finger to try to block out the messy scribble in the margins of the first page, flashing an awkward grin, and hoping to all the Gods, any Gods, that his handwriting was so ugly she couldn’t— “‘Will you marry me’?” Her loud scowl speared through his heart, and her eyebrows raised past the roof. – where shane tries to learn russian so he could propose to ilya just like he so rightfully deserves 🩷

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  11. When a particularly hard hit during an All Star practice scrimmage turns to an actual fist fight, Hayden Pike and Ilya Rozanov end up in timeout. or Coach Murdock puts Hayden in a broom closet with his best friend's rival turned boyfriend and he uses the opportunity to give Ilya Rozanov a “shovel talk.” Standalone fic! Ilya Rozanov was a fucking asshole. So was Coach Murdock, who was coaching the All-Star Team and who, after Hayden and Rozanov got into a fight during a practice. It actually went to blows. Shane would be pissed when he found out about it. This All Star Game might be the final nail in the coffin of the fucking fan voted fantasy draft that was some marketing scheme cooked up to get more people into hockey. Either way, Hayden had a split lip and there was already a bruise forming over Ilya’s eye. Yeah, Shane was going to be super pissed. At least he’d be pissed at both of them. At least, Hayden hoped he’d be mad at Rozanov too, seeing as he started it by slamming Hayden into the boards during a scrimmage. Hayden had told Rozanov to fuck off and shoved him and somewhere in the mix it had become an actual fight. Okay, so maybe Hayden wasn’t the best at controlling his emotions and Rozanov knew exactly how to get under Hayden’s skin and burrow in like a tick. Coach Murdock took both of them to a room not much bigger than a penalty box, opened it, made both of them stand inside of it and then said: “Work it out, kill each other, I don’t care but you better come back ready to play hockey instead of boxing.” Hayden ignored Rozanov at first. “This does not seem to be working it out or killing each other. We should listen to our coach.” Rozanov had settled on his own crate and was being annoying. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Hayden snapped. Rozanov’s eyes twinkled with amusement. The fucker loved messing with Hayden. “W e, Russians, we talk all the time.” Hayden admittedly did not know enough Russians that weren’t hockey players (who were a mouthy bunch in general) to confirm or refute that. “Well, maybe if you could stop talking, I can calm down and we can go back out there.” “But we haven’t decided if we’re going to figure it out or kill each other,” Rozanov winked. His eyes were very pretty. Hayden couldn’t lie. Rozanov was objectively attractive, especially according to Jackie’s friends, who hated Rozanov as much as anyone in Montreal did but who couldn’t deny that he had a look about him. Rozanov, who could apparently read minds, smirked. “Do you think I’m pretty, Pike?” The blush happened instantly, a family curse. “Oh you do!” Rozanov cheered. “Fuck off!” Hayden bit out. He was such a dick. “Too bad for you, I am taken,” Rozanov grinned and he actually looked like he was stupid fucking in love when he did that. It made him harder to hate but also- “Shane told you I know?” He asked, keeping his voice low. He doubted anyone was listening but you could never be too careful. “I was surprised you figured it out.” Rozanov said with a nod. “He’s my best friend,” Hayden pointed out. “Yes but you are, in Russia we say, not everyone is home. In English, it’s something about a bad knife in the drawer.” He stroked his stubble. “Not the sharpest knife in the drawer,” Hayden corrected and then groaned when Rozanov smiled. “Yes exactly! You are not the sharpest knife in the drawer.” Rozanov was still grinning. “I’m very sharp,” Hayden returned. He had also been the victim of more than one concussion so maybe a little less sharp than average. Rozanov laughed again. Hayden was considering the coach's suggestion of killing Rozanov but Shane would probably be a lot pissed off if Hayden did that. “Tell me, do I bother you, Pike?” Rozanov asked. “Yes,” Hayden answered without thinking. Rozanov hummed. “Why?” “You’re an asshole,” Hayden responded. “Yes, but so is Boiziau and you and him are friends,” Rozanov said. “Why am I special?” “Well, I thought you hated my best friend,” Hayden said. Shane and Rozanov had supposedly been rivals and along the way Hayden started hating Ilya too. “I love him,” Rozanov said like it was simple, like it was easy, like it was breathing. Hayden understood that, but it made his heart warm that someone cared like this about his best friend. “He tells me to stop teasing you, but I do not want to.” Even if that someone was an asshole. Speaking of: “Shane is my best friend-“ Hayden opened. “I am his best friend,” Rozanov corrected. “You are second best.”

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  12. Hidden Flames on Ice by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
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    2025-12-21

    During a high-stakes game between their teams, everything changes when Shane takes a brutal hit and goes down hard, blood staining the ice. The arena falls into stunned silence as trainers rush forward and fans hold their breath. All eyes turn to Ilya. The question hangs heavy in the air, unspoken but undeniable: How does a rival react when the man he loves is lying broken on the ice? The arena shook with thunderous energy. Thousands of fans dressed in rival colors waved signs, shouted chants, and slammed their palms against the boards. It was a spectacle every time the two teams met, but tonight felt charged—dangerous, electric. Shane Hollander skated warmup laps, feeling the weight of all those eyes. Cameras followed him as usual; he was the league’s golden boy, the face of his franchise. A clean-cut hero. The perfect foil to Ilya Rozanov. Shane allowed himself one quick glance toward the other end of the rink. Ilya was stretching near the blue line, long legs and broad shoulders outlined in his dark away jersey. He looked like a storm contained within a man—intense, focused, carved from granite. Everyone saw rivals. Polar opposites. Enemies destined to clash. No one saw the truth. The hands tangled beneath blankets. The whispered confessions in Russian and English. The quiet mornings in Ilya’s apartment, sunlight spilling across intertwined legs. The soft kisses before they split for practice, pretending they weren’t choosing love over the expectations of an entire league. Shane dragged his gaze away as the whistle blew. He couldn’t afford to get lost in thoughts of Ilya—not when they were minutes from going head-to-head. Not when every camera zoomed in for the slightest hint of tension. But his chest tightened with something warm and painful. Tonight, they’d have to pretend they didn’t matter to each other. Midway through the second period, Shane felt good—sharp. His skates cut through the ice like they were part of him. He took a pass, dodged a defender, then stole the puck right off a stick. The crowd roared, vibrating through his bones. Ilya was on the ice too, shadowing him from a distance that would look normal to anyone else. But Shane recognized it—the protective tether Ilya couldn’t fight, even in a rivalry game. Shane accelerated along the boards, eyes locked on the net. He had a lane. One beautiful, narrow lane. Then he never saw the defender coming. A massive body slammed into his blindside. Shane was lifted off his feet, crashing into the boards so hard the impact rattled his teeth. His helmet snapped back. Pain exploded behind his eye. His breath vanished. The world tilted. The puck slid away as Shane crumpled, his cheek hitting the ice, coldness searing his skin. A metallic taste filled his mouth. He lifted his hand, blinking at the smear of red on his glove. Blood. He heard the crowd gasp. Distant shouting. The shrill whistle of the refs. But it all sounded muffled, underwater. Then he heard something else. A roar—angry, feral, unmistakable. Ilya. Ilya Rozanov was already moving before any whistle blew. His eyes widened the instant Shane hit the ice—an expression so raw, so terrified, that his teammate beside him startled. But Ilya wasn’t afraid of losing momentum. He was afraid of losing Shane. He threw his gloves down so violently they slid across the rink. The defenseman who delivered the hit barely had time to straighten before Ilya collided with him like a freight train. “What the—Rozanov!” the player barked, raising his hands. Too late. Ilya’s fist slammed into his jaw with a crack that echoed. He grabbed the man’s jersey, hauling him down, yelling in a mix of Russian curses and English threats. His fist rose again — Two teammates tried to drag him away. He elbowed one in the ribs and threw the other off with a growl, all restraint gone. More players poured in. Sticks flew. Helmets toppled. Punches landed in a frenzy. A full-team brawl erupted—one massive, chaotic explosion across the ice. The crowd rose to their feet, torn between horror and exhilaration. But Ilya saw none of that. His gaze kept darting toward Shane’s motionless body. His chest heaved. Panic twisted his face in a way no broadcast replay could quite capture. He wasn’t fighting to win. He was fighting because someone had hurt the man he loved. And if someone was going to pay for it, it wouldn’t be Shane.

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  13. MLH Tracker @MLHTracker rozanov81 (Ilya Rozanov) started following 3 and unfollowed 0: ✅ montrealmetros (The Montreal Metros) ✅ shanehollanderofficial (Shane Hollander) ✅ metrosworst (Worst Metros Plays) ⏎ 55 ⟳ 39 ♡ 732 rozanov defender @gremlinroz ... alright who told ilya about the mlh tracker ⏎ 0 ⟳ 10 ♡ 63 lea @rozanovsss getting ready for the game on thursday i see... masterful trolling ⏎ 5 ⟳ 1 ♡ 37 The history of Hollanov, primarily as seen through the MLH Tracker on Twitter.

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  14. what if hayden and shane are like drunk girls, and ilya is the dd im not sure if there's a plot, or if it's just vibes

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  15. Teach me by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
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    2025-12-21

    Their reunion at Shane's cottage pulls them back into each other. It's intense as always but in the quiet orgasm afterglow, Ilya makes a confession.

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  16. “It was a bad hit, Shane,” Hayden says, worriedly. He looks up to where Ilya is quietly observing them, leaning against the lockers with his eyes fixed intently on Shane. “Ilya, doesn’t it look bad?” “Is not bullet wound,” Ilya says flatly, “he will be back on ice within week.” or, Shane and Ilya play on the same team and hate each other in every way but one…or so Shane thinks until he gets hurt on the ice and Ilya is a little too nice about it all.

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  17. Six times Ilya wakes up alone, and one time he doesn't.

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  18. "Shane Hollander was learning Russian at an infuriatingly fast pace. Ilya predicted that the already bilingual man, who had no accent in either English or French, would exceed Ilya's own Russian skills in no time and rocket to intimate familiarity with the musical vowels and soft lilts of his native language. Which would be made even easier for Shane by the fact that Ilya hadn't spoken a full sentence of Russian in over two years" Ilya freaks out about forgetting Russian. He finds comfort in Shane.

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  19. After a panicked call to Ilya about a sick delirious Shane, Ilya drops everything to head home to reach him.

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  20. Shane’s eyes dart to the tree and back to Ilya. “I mean. You don’t think it looks a little uneven?” Ilya’s eyebrows go up, and he whips his head around to look at the tree before rounding on Shane again. “What do you mean ‘uneven?’ The whole fucking thing is covered in lights, there’s hardly any tree left.” “You don’t think there are too many on one side?” “Absolutely not.” “Okay, just - look at it from this angle.” Shane gives his sleeve a tug, pulling Ilya over to stand next to him, watching his eyes sweep up and down the tree. Finally, Ilya says, “You are crazy.” Decorating a tree together can actually be so personal.

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