21 – 37 of 37 Works in the cottage
- the cottage ×
-
It permeated his brain. The intoxicating smell of simple bar soap, laundry detergent, a hint of sweat, and Ilya. It was like a soft blanket surrounding his thoughts, cushioning them, slowing them down. He’d been so busy, so stressed, by both his life and his secrets. Everything was so complicated, so confusing, so anxiety-inducing, that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d truly been able to take a full inhale. So, as he knelt there, breathing, pressing into the man above him, Shane felt himself relax bit by bit, his anxieties and ruminating worries finally slipping away. -- Or, Shane learns that cockwarming quiets his brain.
- Part 1 of Hollanov
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,023
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76915701
-
To Be Remembered, Is To Be Loved by BrokenColors
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-01
Shane Hollander forgets his marriage. Ilya Rozanov doesn’t forget how to love him. As Shane recovers from a concussion that fractures his memories, the life they built together resurfaces in quieter ways. Through routine, touch, shared space, and an intimacy that refuses to disappear. Love, it turns out, doesn’t always need memory. Sometimes, it just needs time. -------- tl;dr - Hollanov's Amnesia AU in which Shane's last memory is July 2010, a.k.a the first time they hooked up in Toronto after shooting the commercial. Problem is, it is 2022, and they have been married for almost a year, but Shane cannot remember the past 12 years of his life with Ilya.
- Part 1 of To Be or Not To Be
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 13,876
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76882061
-
Everybody knows you by Em_otionalstar
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-01
A very self-indulgent little oneshot of New Years Eve at the cottage! Very far post-canon
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,061
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76886416
-
home for the summer by DistantStorm
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-01
Summer, 2019 Hayden doesn’t know if he’s seen his kind of happiness on his best friend’s face before, which is saying something considering they’ve won two cups together. He doesn’t let himself think about that for long because it pulls tight on something in his chest and he’s trying to be the kind of sloppy drunk that has lazy sex at three in the morning, not the kind that cries about social injustice and admits he might not hate Shane’s boyfriend as much as he says he does. OR: Hayden Pike and the terrible ordeal of tolerating Ilya Rozanov. Summer, 2019 Of all the things Hayden Pike was expecting from his annual four-day weekend at Shane’s cottage before training camp, spending a quiet evening around the fire pit wasn’t really it. At least, not with Rozanov in the picture. He’d almost asked Shane if there was any time Roz wouldn’t be around, but Jackie had insisted he at least make an attempt to play nicely. So, here they were, blessedly child free since David and Yuna had collected the kids this morning after breakfast, taking them back to their cabin down the way for a slumber party, drinking wine, and relaxing. Shane had started the fire before sunset and they’d all watched the sun sink beneath the ridge beyond the lake, talking about mostly nothing. Hockey talk was banned unless it was about the foundation camp that started in two weeks, and nobody was allowed to work out in the mornings unless it was to do a camp activity since they were all technically on vacation. At some point, Rozanov had gotten up to go inside, returning moments later with a new bottle of wine, which he set in a white-marble chiller at Hayden’s elbow. Hayden had stared at him, wondering who had possessed him since he was pretty sure Roz would rather die than act as a good host to Hayden, whose glass was nearly empty, but Roz was too busy folding his massive six-foot-three frame onto the couch opposite them, resting his head in Shane’s lap like it this all normal and not disgusting. Not disgusting like that, Hayden might not be the most observant guy but he’s not a fucking homophobe, thank you very much, but disgusting because it’s the Russian Stallion, Mister God’s Gift to Women and Hockey, certified playboy Ilya fucking Rozanov. “Comfortable?” The word is barely audible over the crackle-pop of the fire, slurred and quiet. Not perfectly enunciated in the way Rozenov always speaks to, well, everyone. Hayden almost thinks—no shit Sherlock, that’s because he’s aware of the language barrier, then remembers once again this is Roz and he’s not really interested in giving the man the benefit of the doubt. “I’m okay,” Shane confirms, sinking his fingers in Roz’s hair. “You?” “Da.” Roz hasn’t looked up from the fire since he’d laid down. “You are comfy. Like pillow.” Kill me now, Hayden thinks. It’s one thing to know, nebulously, that this is a thing. Like, he knows that Shane and Rozanov are a couple in secret, and if Shane’s happy and Roz isn’t a dick to him, it’s not really Hayden’s business. It’s another thing to experience them being domestic. Jackie, seeming to sense Hayden’s spiraling thoughts, nudges her empty glass at him. “Refill me, baby.” Hayden, being a good husband who would like to get laid tonight since their children will not be around to interrupt them and Shane had put them in a guest room on the opposite side of his massive actually-not-a-cottage-but-a-mansion, abandons his own near-empty glass and does what she asks of him. “I always forget how beautiful it is out here,” she says, pausing only to take a sip of wine when Hayden passes it back. He always fills it up too high to be polite, but she never complains. “No wonder you love it.” “Yeah,” Shane says at the same time Roz murmurs, “It is good to be home.” Jackie, who kicks him in the shin because his mouth is hanging open because, like, what the fuck, acts like nothing has happened. Like Rozanov isn’t tense and trying to sit up, like they can’t see the muscles in Shane’s left forearm flex or his fingers splaying across Roz’s ribs to keep him from doing what? Running away? Hayden needs more wine, and even then he probably won’t be able to process this. “Thank you again for inviting us,” she tells Shane, or Roz, maybe both of them? Honestly, Hayden’s smart enough to know he’s not the brains in his relationship, so he takes a hopefully not audible gulp of wine, finishing the glass so he can top it back up. “Our pleasure,” Shane replies, a small smile lifting his lips at one corner. Roz’s left hand closes over Shane’s kneecap as if he needs to hold onto something solid. Like he’s just accidentally admitted something about himself. All this time, Hayden’s kind of thought that Shane would be the one clinging to Roz. Obviously that’s not really how a relationship works. It’s not always even-steven, of course it isn’t, but he just couldn’t reconcile Ilya Rozanov, the mouthy asshole who spent the last eight seasons terrorizing the league—and Shane, especially—with whatever the fuck this is. The guy who turned down what was reportedly ten million a year in Boston to go to Ottawa for slightly less than, who’s currently staring so somberly at the fire Hayden wonders if he can put it out with his eyeballs or something because he’d called this place home and got embarrassed by it? Except—maybe Roz is because he doesn’t really have another place he can just… be. No sneaking around or pretending. Fuck, Hayden thinks. That is really fucking sad, whether Roz is an asshole or not. He looks down into his wine, decides if this keeps up this line of thinking he’s going wind up a weepy drunk. He sets the glass down on the table and rises to his feet. “Alright losers,” he says, before adding, “And my beautiful wife, whom I adore.” Jackie giggles. Roz rolls his eyes and raises an eyebrow in silent question. “I think it’s time to get this party started. Beer pong, anyone?” “We will wipe the floor with you,” Roz drawls, instantly interested in a challenge. “Be careful what you wish for.” Shane finds Hayden’s eyes over Roz’s head and nods microscopically, looking kind of emotional, like he knows what Hayden’s doing.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,768
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76889216
-
love was a myth (now it's my morning coffee) by cornelia_leclerc
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-31
There’s a stillness and serenity to mornings at the cottage that Ilya immediately fell in love with. From the first morning he woke up in Shane’s light filled summer sanctuary (to the same man’s lips just barely grazing Ilya’s chest with each breath before the day dragged them away from blissful, linen soft slumber), Ilya was in awe of this sense of calm he’d never found anywhere else in the world but here.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,933
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76804041
-
Lucky Draw by thatadrenalinejunkie
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-30
With a sudden growl of frustration—only half-fake— Ilya sweeps the cards off the couch in one dramatic motion. Before Shane can even protest, Ilya’s crawling across the cushions, pushing Shane onto his back and settling over him. Shane yelps, laughing. “Hey—!” But the sound cuts off with a soft gasp when Ilya dips down and starts kissing along his neck, slow and thorough. One of Ilya’s hands braces next to Shane’s head, the other slides under his Henley, palm against the soft skin of Shane’s stomach. Shane drops the remaining cards instantly, his hands flying to Ilya’s waist. His breath stutters as Ilya noses along the curve of his neck, lips brushing just beneath his ear. “You’re such a sore loser,” Shane breathes, but he tilts his head anyway, baring more skin, welcoming him in. Ilya grins against him, victorious. -- Or, the one where Ilya and Shane get to ring in the New Year together for the first time.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,249
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76740141
-
Shane never thought of himself as a jealous person. But Ilya Rozanov made him feel like he was losing his mind. Svetlana Vetrova. That was the name of the girl Ilya Rozanov was pictured with. The beautiful, statuesque, model like, stunning woman with the perfect skin and amazing hair and deep hazel eyes that Rozanov was hanging off of. Shane frowned at the television, watching the entertainment program break down the photos of Rozanov leaving a club in Boston, hand in hand with one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, his shirt unbuttoned too much to be decent, the muscles of his forearms so defined Shane had to resist reaching out to touch the screen. “Vetrova’s father is one of the most legendary goalies in Russian history, so it seems like Rozanov is in the company of hockey royalty,” the blonde woman on the television said. “They seem like very good friends,” the man standing next to her said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “They certainly look good together.” They do, Shane thought as the photo changed to one of them climbing into the backseat of a town car, Rozanov’s hand practically on Svetlana’s ass. He had no right to feel anything about this. Rozanov was just some guy he’d had sex with a few times. Shane was a free agent, too. He could go out and sleep with anyone else whenever he wanted, and Rozanov wouldn’t care. Shane had no claim to Rozanov. They’d had sex a few times, but it didn’t mean anything. It was convenient and Rozanov was hot and incredible at fucking him, but it wasn't anything more than that. At least, that was what he had tried to remind himself. This was nothing. He watched the television as it flicked to a photo of Rozanov sucking on a cigarette. Shane had begun to miss the taste of cigarettes. >>> He moaned into the pillow, his eyes screwed shut as Rozanov fucked him, his arm pressing down on his shoulders. Shane reached behind him, desperately trying to grab onto something to try and ground him as his body tensed, grateful when Rozanov grabbed his hand and bore down over him, his hips pinning him to the bed. Shane bit his lip as Rozanov moaned loudly into the back of his neck, his hips moving faster and harder – Shane cried out as he came, squeezing Rozanov’s hand as he fucked him, not slowing down as Rozanov chased his own orgasm. Shane loved being used like this; he loved when he was spent and exhausted and Rozanov kept fucking him, moaning his name, desperate to come too. Rozanov cried out Shane’s name as he came, his hips slowing down to a grind as he slid his hand into Shane’s hair, gripping him tightly as he finally stopped moving, slumping over him. Shane took a deep breath, doing his best to breathe normally again underneath Rozanov’s weight. He grimaced when he realised his cock was trapped between the sheets and his stomach, his come smeared everywhere. Rozanov seemed to realise Shane was trying to move, pulling out slowly and rolling off of him. “Fuck,” Shane mumbled, rolling onto his back and looking down at himself. Rozanov loved when he came untouched, making it his mission to make Shane come that way every single time. Rozanov turned towards him, slapping his hand over his chest. Shane flinched as Rozanov leaned over him and licked the come off of his stomach, laughing as he moved up to kiss him. Shane smiled as Rozanov’s hand rested over his neck, his tongue moving against his as he pressed closer to Shane. Shane pushed him gently off of him, sitting up and blinking. “We need to shower,” he said. Rozanov sighed, watching as Shane stood and crossed to the bathroom, doing his best not to make a face as the ache in his ass. “You are okay?” Rozanov asked. “Yes,” Shane answered honestly. He was always okay; he loved this feeling, like his whole body had been pushed beyond his limits and he could barely hold himself up. He flicked the shower on, flinching at the sight of himself in the mirror. His hair was a sweaty mess, his skin was flushed red, sweat had beaded down his chest, and come was drying in the hair beneath his bellybutton. Shane didn’t look anything like Svetlana, or the many women Rozanov was photographed with. Shane wasn’t tall and thin and beautiful. He was average height, broad shouldered and plain. He hated his flat hair and his ugly freckles and his boring brown eyes. Shane was so busy frowning at himself that he didn’t see Rozanov walk into the bathroom. He startled when Rozanov gripped his waist, kissing his neck snapping him out of his reverie. Shane watched in the mirror as Rozanov reached for his hand and pulled him towards the shower; for a brief moment, he thought about the photo he had seen of Rozanov with Svetlana. >>> “Not bad, Hollander,” Hayden said, clapping him on the back. “Not bad?” Shane asked. “A hat trick is better than not bad.” A hat trick against Boston, no less. Scoring against Rozanov was no easy feat. He shucked off his jersey, listening as JJ led the team in celebrations, loudly singing their team song.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,676
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76644891
-
Say it again in Russian? by IamPoof
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-28
What if Shanes Memory is better than even he thought? What if he remembers more of Ilyas russian monologue than he thought he would? Or: A small change in their love confession
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,159
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76588696
-
something you can fix by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-27
Maybe if the video ended there, Shane thought, it would be okay. Okayish. Still incriminating. Still a fucking disaster. Still embarrassing, to have his breakup with this beautiful actress filmed and disseminated on Reddit of all fucking places, but not a nail in his coffin, burying him alive. But the video didn’t end there.
“Can I ask if you’ve ever been with another guy?” she had to ask.
And he, tears visible in his eyes, had to nod.
Just once. Just a single nod.
Why did he have to nod?
“Have you ever told anyone that before?” He shook his head. “Was it different? With a guy?”
“Of course.”
Of course.
“Was it better?”
“Yes.”
+++
Shane’s conversation with Rose is secretly recorded. Months later, after the All-Star game and Ilya’s confession in Russian, the video gets leaked online. Shane is outed to the world while Ilya is in Russia, and must now finish the 2016-2017 season with the entire world in on his secret.
- Part 1 of something you can fix
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 26,824
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 8 versions
- AO3:
- #76495636
-
“My dad definitely liked you. You share his taste in vodka.” Ilya hums, running a hand up and down Shane’s arm. “See? You are worried about nothing.” “I know, I just… I’ve had this hanging over me for years, and now that it’s over with…” “You look lighter,” Ilya tells him, brushing his fingers against Shane’s cheek. “More peaceful.” “I feel lighter, but I’m scared,” he admits, fingers drifting down to Ilya’s abdomen, tracing the lines and ridges he finds there. “We’ve never done this before—the actually being together part. I’m scared I’ll mess it up.” Shane and Ilya return to the cottage after the confrontation with Shane’s parents.
- Part 3 of Hollanov one shots
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,135
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76478646
-
Ilya’s eyebrows raise. “This is a thing you want? For me to come inside you?” “Yeah—yeah.” Shane clears his throat. “It’s hot. Isn’t it?” “Can you not decide whether bare cock in your ass is hot?” “Fuck you. See if I let you—” Ilya takes Shane’s hand and presses a quiet kiss to his wrist, then the center of his palm. “You will let me.” ~~ Or: Shane asks Ilya to fuck him without a condom.
- Part 1 of The Cottage
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,836
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76482131
-
When Ilya gets injured while swimming in the lake, Shane scrambles to save him from drowning. ("We all get our bell rung, eventually." -Shane Hollander) It was a less than perfect day at the lake. A gray day—little sun. But Shane Hollander was overflowing with light. He felt it on his cheeks, all over his skin, in his bones. He couldn’t stop smiling with it. The cottage itself seemed to glow with a living aura. The night before he was looking into his longtime lover’s eyes when he said—twice in Russian, and then once in English—“I love you.” Shane said it back. And his world shifted like tectonic plates. No day would ever truly be gray again. Ilya Rozanov stood on top of the large, slanted rock on which Shane sat. “Don’t dive into the water, you idiot. It’s shallow here—up to your waist.” Ilya ruffled Shane’s slate-black hair. “I do little jump,” Rozanov said. “Barely dive. Closer to —what do you say—eh, belly flop.” Shane rolled his eyes as he carefully rearranged his hair. “You’re going to belly flop into cold water with bruised ribs?” Ilya winced and wrinkled his nose at the thought. “You dive in there and you’re going to sprain your wrists on the bottom before your feet hit the water,” Hollander warned. “Fine!” Ilya made a show of putting his hands behind his back by stretching his long arms up and around. He clasped his own fingers together and stared down at Hollander. “No arms. Half belly flap, half dive. Yes? Approved?” The fondness for Ilya that glowed in Shane’s heart warmed. “Fine!” he said, pronouncing the word with a Russian accent, speaking it the same way Ilya had a moment ago. “But there’s a downed tree down there so aim to the—” Ilya rotated to the right and dove nose-first over Shane’s knees. “—left.” Shane gulped. Ilya disappeared into the water—all six feet of him—and Shane sighed. He looked around, taking a moment to ingest the view. The hockey captain took in the trees, the horizon on the water, the sky. All beautiful, he concluded. But not as beautiful as Ilya Rozanov’s body in those swimming trunks. That was his favorite view of all. Shane looked down at the spot in the water where Ilya had disappeared, and curled his hands into fists when he realized that a whole half minute had passed. How long could his lover hold his breath? Shane didn’t know. “Rozanov?” he called to the silent lake. “Ilya!” The clouds shifted then. Shane concluded that an entire minute had passed. Sunlight through the trees illuminated the colors of the water—blue, black, teal, green... And red. “FUCK,” Shane gasped at the sight of the blood. He eased himself into the water and started swimming as fast as he could. His leg bumped something solid. Shane took a deep breath and dropped underwater, eyes open. Arms paddling, fingers reaching, mostly blind, Shane felt around for the solid object. Fingers found the underwater tree, first, but then he found something hard that felt like skin, and he pulled. Shane summoned all of his strength and swam for the surface. He emerged gasping, holding the limp, unmoving body in a bridal carry. Rozanov’s head lolled against Shane’s bicep— eyes shut, mouth open. “Ilya!” Hollander shouted at him. “ILYA!” When not even an eyelid flinched, he swore again and stomped toward the shore. Shane had never heard his own heart beating. But it was thundering in his ears when he gently laid Ilya’s waterlogged body down on the grass. Rozanov’s skin was corpse-colored except for the massive gash at his hairline that was leaking blood. “Dammit!” Shane shouted, voice cracking, when water leaked from Rozanov’s blue-tinted lips. He rolled him onto his side and watched several cups of water stream from his mouth. Then Shane knelt, pressed his ear to Ilya’s lips, and both listened and felt for his breathing. Nothing. No inhale. No exhale. Tears erupted from Shane’s dark eyes. He pressed two fingers against the pulse point on Ilya’s throat. He found it. Ilya had a pulse. But Shane was certain his heart was beating too slow—the sensation shallow under the white skin. Shane’s eyes were so soaked with tears that everything went funhouse mirror blurry. He rolled Ilya onto his back, squeezed his nostrils shut, and blew air into his lungs. Again. Again and again and again. Over and over he breathed breath into his lover. In the distance, a loon called—mocking, almost. “Please,” Shane said against Ilya’s lips. “Wake up, you asshole! Please!” Shane pulled back and looked down at Ilya’s slack face. “Ilya,” he begged. “ILYA!” Then, with all his strength, Shane pushed down on Ilya’s stomach. Water, vomit, and who knew what else erupted from Ilya’s stomach and chest. A cough followed it—then another. After three more, Ilya’s eyes burst open and he went into a coughing fit that Shane had no doubt killed his already bruised ribs. Shane lifted Ilya’s body, then. Lifted him up into his arms so that he was almost sitting. Shane held him while he coughed—didn’t care about the blood slowly soaking his swimming trunks or the vomit under his knees. Ilya’s wide eyes found Shane’s and refused to look away. Shane whispered into Ilya’s ear, “I’m here, I’ve got you, just breathe, you’re ok—you’re ok—you’re ok.” The blood flow didn’t stop, but the coughing eventually did. “Shane,” Ilya wheezed. “S- Sorry…” “Shhh,” Hollander soothed. “You hit your head. You’re bleeding bad. I have to get you to the hospital—can you stand?”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,707
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76486586
-
Finally Home for Christmas by MASD_1138
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-24
Shane and Ilya are slowly getting used to their new schedules and figuring out what their relationship looks like, but with Christmas arriving, they leave their stressful life behind for a few days so they can enjoy their first holiday as a family at the cottage.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,651
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76345361
-
Ilya gets his skates on and tests the ice underneath him. It feels nothing like their professional rinks, which are always perfectly smooth. Each little imperfection in the ice creates a bump that shocks up his legs, and he almost feels clumsy. Ilya hasn’t felt clumsy on ice since he was four years old. “Have you ever skated outside before?” Shane asks, noticing Ilya’s reaction. “Maybe, once or twice,” Ilya lies. “But I am city boy, remember.” “Well, there’s no Zamboni.” Shane grins, and skates confidently past Ilya, further out into their small rink. -- or, Shane and Ilya make the most of their Christmas break.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,824
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76288841
-
As Hayden stood up, Rozanov did too. “I will help him,” he said. “You relax, enjoy not going outside in the dark.” Jackie sat back down with a smile. “Thank you, Ilya.” As Hayden and Rozanov went outside, he couldn't help himself. “What, are you afraid of the dark?” Rozanov made a sound similar to a scoff, leading Hayden to the car. “Try harder next time, Pike.” He dismissed the jab, but he didn't come up with one of his usual quick comebacks so Hayden counted it as a win for himself. -- a year following the long game, the pike family heads to shane and ilya's cottage in ottawa to spend a week with them. hayden is forced into totally mundane situations with the man he can't stand, rozanov. during his time at the cottage, he begins to understand his best friend's husband
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,997
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76211971
-
Shane and Ilya get an extra day off because of snow
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,581
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76056346
-
Shane and Ilya navigate their new relationship now that they're officially a couple
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,282
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #74321611
- ← Previous
- 1
- 2