21 – 29 of 29 Works in Shane Hollander Has Panic Attacks
- Shane Hollander Has Panic Attacks ×
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Cumbersome and heavy body by Sweettree
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-08
God, he was having a freak out and it was gonna be a bad one. “I can’t do this I can’t do this. I can’t I can’t. why?! I can’t! I can’t.” Shane was sobbing. He could breathe he couldn’t hear. His whole body was burning. Not like on fire, but it was tingling. Like an energy was trying to escape him from all directions. Like anxiety was trying to seep out of every pore in his skin. Or Shane has a really bad meltdown during a game.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,331
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77324576
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you can ebb and I can flow (and we'll take it slow) by foxjournals
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-01-08
Shane hears him, loud and clear, but it’s like his words are suddenly shallow and hollow, coming in bits and pieces as they funnel through one ear and out the other, and he swears he’s listening, swears he’s trying to hang onto every word out of his boyfriend's mouth, but that white hot static is louder than ever. His brain feels fuzzy and his eyes blur and whether it’s from unshed tears he hasn’t noticed yet or for another reason completely, he isn’t sure. He isn’t sure how he got from point A to point B, but all he knows is suddenly he can’t breathe. Suddenly, he’s six feet under, water encasing his lungs as they shrivel and expand into nothing. Or: Shane and Ilya get into a fight, and the only way out is through panicking Or: Shane uses a safeword in the middle of an argument
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,007
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77306591
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Ilya realises that Shane doesn’t just respond to his needs during sex. He's taking orders – and getting off on it. They both are. Get on your knees. That had been the first time Ilya had tested Hollander's boundaries directly. He had noticed during their first couple interactions that Hollander seemed to like the guidance that Ilya gave him. Ilya relished in it; Hollander was the first person who seemed to actually listen to him and do what he was told to do. It was thrilling. But Ilya didn’t realise the depth of Hollander’s submissive streak right away. The first time he had invited him to drink more water, that day in the hotel gym, Hollander had done it immediately. Ilya had figured that Hollander had just had permission to take more than what he thought he was allowed to and didn’t think anything of it. When Hollander had admitted that being with Ilya was his first time being with a man, Ilya assumed that he was shy and nervous, his brown eyes docile and timid. Ilya was determined to make it as easy as possible for Hollander to explore – whatever this was. He remembered being nervous with Sasha, and how Sasha had coached him patiently in how to fuck men. Ilya had been so focused on being good in bed that he hadn’t had too much time to be truly terrified, which was great for him, but Ilya could tell that wasn’t Hollander’s motivator. And that first night in Hollander’s hotel room had left Ilya with questions. The way Hollander had immediately dropped to his knees once Ilya had pressed his thumb into his mouth was...something. Like he’d been given some sort of unspoken permission to do something Ilya would have never told him he couldn’t do, and once he got it, he came alive. Ilya had never experienced someone become so dazed before, so lost inside sex that the outside world didn’t even seem to exist anymore. His eyes...it was like Hollander wasn’t truly in his body. The way Hollander hadn’t asked for reassurance, for guidance, the way he needed to know if what he was doing was good but refused to ask Ilya outright was surprising, but Ilya could feel that he needed it. He'd praised him, of course – Ilya had never come so quick in his life, and he was sure Hollander would have known from that alone that he was good at sex, despite his inexperience. Or maybe in spite of it. But when he stared into those big, sad brown eyes, surrounded by the prettiest freckles he’d ever seen, Ilya could tell that Hollander was less worried about the sex being good, and more worried about Ilya feeling good. It was an important distinction to someone like Ilya, who spent most of his free time bringing people to orgasm because watching the exact moment they fell apart because of him was better than any drink or drug he’d ever taken. Knowing that he was responsible for someone losing control like that, crying out his name, was powerful. He felt powerful in those moments. Useful. And somehow, none of those moments felt anywhere near as heady as when he had made Hollander cry out for him, his strong hands buried in his hair, desperately trying to yank him off his cock as he came, unable to push Ilya off of him because his body was completely at Ilya’s mercy. Nothing had ever felt as good as watching Hollander’s eyes become faraway, filled with unshed tears, red rimmed and desperate as he stared up at Ilya, waiting to take whatever he would give him. Because Hollander didn’t need him. He wanted him. Ilya could feel the difference. He needed more. And he was certain Hollander needed more, too. Ilya tested the boundary again the next time they hooked up. He gently requested Hollander get on his knees, just to see what he would do, and Hollander dropped to the floor so fast Ilya couldn’t believe it. He'd half expected Hollander to tell him to go fuck himself, or to get on his knees instead. But Hollander had hit the ground so hard Ilya had flinched at the sound of his knees hitting the floor, barely able to breathe as Hollander desperately pulled his sweatpants down and suckled at his cock so fast Ilya nearly came right then and there. So, he’d been curious. More than curious. Fixated. Obsessed. Unable to stop thinking about what Hollander would let him do to him. He found himself wishing the women he would meet in every city would somehow reveal themselves to have the same quirks so Ilya could indulge himself with them, and stop thinking about fucking Hollander. But he couldn’t. Ilya couldn’t stop thinking about Hollander, and god knows he’d tried not to think about him. Tried not to think about when he’d ordered Hollander onto his stomach, how he had flipped over immediately for him, despite being nervous. He'd tried not to think about how when Ilya had asked him if he’dbeen fucked before, Hollander had tensed, but when he pressed a finger against his hole, he’d relaxed completely under his touch. How when Ilya had tried to find out if Hollander was a virgin, he had offered up that he fucked himself with a dildo. How when Ilya had pressed two fingers inside him that night, Hollander had scoffed and said he could take more than that, but refused to tell Ilya how big his dildo was. How when Ilya fucked him, Hollander’s eyes would become wetter and more intense, how all he could do was stare at Ilya through heavy breaths and frantically touch every part of him, moaning his name. The more Ilya tried not to think about Hollander, the more he became consumed by him. Ilya needed to know what else he could instruct Hollander to do. Within reason, of course. Ilya just wanted to give Hollander everything he didn’t know he needed.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,471
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77253946
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Man of the House by HollanovIsReal2K17 (knockyasocksoff2022)
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2026-01-05
SUMMARY: Svetlana shows up at Ilya's penthouse for a hookup, but Shane is the one who opens the door. With this revelation, they talk about what it means to be Jane and Lily. A/N: Heavily inspired by the fic About that Spare Key by @frizzyanya
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,469
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77148381
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He didn't know why he agreed to see Rozanov again. It was a bad idea for so many different reasons. It was risky, it was dangerous, and it would destroy them both if it got out. But there was something pulling him to the other man, a tug in his chest that Shane tried to ignore because he couldn't pretend he didn't know what it meant. If he focused, he could still feel the phantom touch of Rozanov's fingers on his skin, see the look on his face as Rozanov disappeared into a memory. Shane’s memory. Both of them knew what it meant. Shane almost wished they didn't. OR: Soulmates who touch each other's scars for the first time get to live through the memory of their soulmate acquiring them. For Shane and Ilya, being known so deeply by their rival is not the miracle everyone else says it is. At least, not for about eight years.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,709
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76988411
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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
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Shane doesn't fall apart loudly. He spirals, shuts down, missteps. Ilya pays attention. He stays. He helps Shane learn what it feels like to be noticed without being corrected. or, 5 times Shane needs help regulating his autism, and Ilya is there for him + 1 time Shane is there for Ilya.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,155
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76562201
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After a violent incident, Shane Hollander's management team and parents hire him a bodyguard. Enter Ilya Rozanov.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,648
- Chapters:
- 7/7
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76275156
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breach, noun: the act or a result of breaking; a break or rupture. Shane Hollander has routines, he has a schedule, he has his lists. Sometimes going through the motions proves harder than anticipated. Shane spirals, luckily for the first time, he's not alone.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,837
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75950706
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