21 – 37 of 37 Works in Nesting

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  1. After years of hiding his dynamic, all Shane wants is to spend a normal heat with his boyfriend, Ilya Rozanov. This proves to be difficult when nobody knows he's secretly mated to his archrival.

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  2. She sleeps alone / My heart wants to come home / I wish I was / I wish I was / Beside you or His omega howled sadly in his chest at the thought of his mate being so far from him– never mind that they weren’t officially mated, they had been dancing around each other for the better part of 10 years and both Shane and his omega had grown clingy. And could you blame him? He had just spent another wonderful summer break with Ilya in the cottage, sleeping and fucking in their nest, spending every possible moment together. Of course Shane– and by extension, his omega– grew attached. He was finally allowed to grow attached to Ilya– finally allowed to think of his alpha as his after so long denying that. Suffice it to say that Shane was missing Ilya. Terribly.

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  3. Mouthful by

    Heated Rivalry (TV)
    • E
    • ✓

    2026-01-06

    Ilya knots Shane’s mouth. It’s unbearably intimate. Also, Shane’s heat is approaching, and Ilya’s softest, comfiest clothes have gone missing. Shane doesn’t nest, but he may have built a large, incredibly comforting pseudo-nest in his bed. Made entirely of Ilya’s clothes. Ilya🤍: How is throat feeling today? 😈 Shane: 🖕

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  4. Ilya and Shane are roommates in college. They both try to pretend it doesn’t mean anything when Ilya comes home to Shane randomly nesting in his bed after a few months of barely speaking, but when Shane presents as an omega, they can no longer deny their connection.

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  5. "The hotel," Ilya repeated in a flat tone, cupping under Shane's jaw. "What hotel?" "Uh," Shane replied again, because he had no fucking clue. "I just need to not be here." "Hollander," Ilya said firmly, squeezing his chin. Shane melted, just a bit, but he tried to remain determined when he started to look for his shorts. Ilya's hand didn't allow for much movement though, his head unable to turn. "Shane, tell me now. Are you going into heat?" or the one where ilya calling shane by his first name sends him into heat

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  6. “Well?” Shane’s voice catches, teeth gritting as his fingers clench into unforgiving porcelain. Ilya breathes out. “I can smell you from all the way down the hall.” Shane swallows, rolling his eyes as his head drops. “Fuck off.” Ilya pushes himself off from the wall, the heels of his shoes clicking against the tile. Shane doesn’t even fight it when Ilya takes his chin between his fingers, blissfully suffocated by the alpha’s proximity. Or, a Las Vegas heat fic.

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  7. “M’ sorry, I’m sorry”, Shane whimpers, “Jus’ needed something dirty, couldn’t smell you on your clothes. Smelt bad, smelt wrong. M’ sorry, m’ sorry-” “Is okay, my love”, Ilya reassures, trying desperately to focus on comforting Shane, eyes zeroing in on the way his husband’s legs have fallen open, revealing Shane’s tuft of dark pubic hair and the shimmer of slick on his protruding labia, “What do you need, moy lyubimyy?” Ilya asks, “Tell me- and I will get it for you” Or Shane wants Ilya's dirty clothes for his nest.

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  8. During a highly-anticipated match between Montreal and Boston, Ilya and Shane are forced into a conflict fueled by their feelings for each other.

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  9. Still, he’s felt like absolute shit for weeks, and the idea of sitting in his hotel room, where he would probably masturbate, cry, and have another night of fitful sleep, did not make him feel any better. Getting to be skin to skin with Ilya Rozanov did. And surely Rozanov wouldn’t be demanding Shane make a nest in his damn bed if he didn’t fully intend on actually kissing him in it and keeping him there until morning, right? Maybe that would be enough to pick Shane up out of this drop, keep it from happening again. OR After not sending the "we didn't kiss" text, Shane's omega hormones go into distress mode. Despite trying to hide his symptoms and play through the misery, when Ilya Rozanov finds out what's going on, the alpha Shane's body wants most is determined to fix it.

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    AO3:
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  10. An A/B/O secret nesting fic. The 5 times Shane steals clothes from Ilya and the 1 time he gets caught, plus his reaction. Inspired by the staircase scene where Shane is holding onto Ilya's hoodie :)

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  11. Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov both need one thing to live their dreams of playing for the NHL: a mating bite. Shane's an omega, and the League doesn't allow unmated omegas to play hockey. Ilya's a Russian alpha, who needs a mate to get a U.S. visa. Their slightly harebrained solution? Bite each other, and let the unfinished bond fade. After five years of stupid texts, awkward heat-care packages, and dancing around their feelings, the bond still hasn't faded and ignoring it has become impossible—something's got to give. -- Contains spoilers for those who have only watched the show, and for The Long Game. A/B/O AU that very loosely follows canon. Happy ending!

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  12. There was no other way— Shane was determined that everything would be perfect and that things would just fall into place. Everything was already labeled, bottles were washed, clothes were washed and hung up in the closet, and he had even sorted them by size. It was safe to say, Shane had this under control. Well that was until he had realized he neglected one little thing— his own nest.

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  13. Plagued with the issues of his family past and present, Ilya Rozanov finds himself in the media's eyes for all the wrong reasons recently with no end in sight. When the team decides enough is enough with the drinking and whoring, Ilya is suddenly faced with a new issue to tackle—team omega Shane Hollander. Shane is up for the task of getting the Russian alpha under control for the season, but are they both up for the unexpected heated connection between them that follows?

    Note: Does contain spoilers for books 2 and 6 of the Game Changers series (Shane & Ilya's stories)

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  14. January, 2016 Ilya orders two burgers and fries for them to share. There is a can of ginger ale, which Shane takes gladly, and, there is also coleslaw salad, which Ilya insisted he got for himself, but Shane caves in and takes a forkful of it too, and, there is an ice cream sandwich, and, Shane doesn’t even like sweet things, but he bites into it as well under Ilya’s amused gaze. “What?” Shane mumbles, his mouth full. Ilya shakes his head. He looks so peaceful and truly calm, which is why Shane doesn’t expect him to open his mouth and say: “You truly are going in heat” so casually. Or, how Shane and Ilya make a baby (prequel to ‘Ice Baby’). January, 2016 Shane is boiling. And not because of the weather, but that one is pretty close. The heat is unbelievable. The weather in Los Angeles is normally pretty mild in January, but this year it turned out to be unnaturally hot, and because they were so far out in the desert, the temperatures felt almost ten times worse. It does not help that Shane feels feverish. He woke up sweaty and flushed this morning, despite the cool nighttime air he let through the open balcony doors (he doesn’t turn on the AC because he thinks it is not good for him), but now, his skin feels rigid and dry, and, no matter how much water he keeps drinking, he cannot quench down the thirst rising in his body. He spent the first half of the day wandering around in a strange haze, but, he feels calmer now, away from the nauseating scents and the constant presence of the other people surrounding him. He cannot however hide away from the sun. Even, in the shade of the umbrella and palm trees, it feels over a hundred degrees. It is past lunchtime, and most of the players of this year’s All-Star Game are back at their rooms or spending time with their families in the hotel, while Shane is one of the few, who stayed out, an unread book lying open on his chest, cover up, as he considers his options. He technically still has time to go back to his room and take a nap before this evening’s charity dinner. He is not particularly tired, but it would be wise to gather his strength after a restless night. He can also stay out and read, taking advantage of the pool, while it’s empty. Shane has a small hot tub back at his villa, but the pool is deeper and wider and Shane would love to use it to his advantage. It is so rare to carve out small moments for himself, that Shane wants to enjoy them to the fullest while he can. The mid-afternoon sun is cruel. January heat is unforgiving, and Shane sort of hopes that the promised rain, which is supposed to break out later in the day, will ease the heaviness in the air. He sinks into the sun-bed, his sunglasses perched low on his nose, then picks up the paperback and tries to focus on the words in front of him. The pool, with its smooth, crystal-like waters is calling to him. Shane sighs, giving up on reading after ten minutes, and steps towards the swimming pool. Tension lifts off his chest when he lets his feet soak in the cool water. Shane is alone, so he takes his time, entering the pool, his body relaxing under the clear surface. Swimming never failed to calm his racing mind and now it also manages to soothe the unsettling anxiety underneath his skin. Shane dives in, headfirst, and he is not thinking about anything other than the water smothering his body like a blanket. His head is completely blank which is perhaps why the arms tightening around his waist make him gasp out in surprise, and rise in panic above the surface, gulping for air. “What the fuck-!” “Found you,” a gleeful voice chirps beside his ear. Shane wants to trash out, but his movements are slow and all he manages is the fiery scowl over his shoulder, and turn round to stare at the familiar face. “We are in public!” “No one is here,” the man shrugs, but he does let go of Shane’s waist and swims to the opposite side of the pool, not even trying to look guilty after noticing the frown twisting Shane’s face. “Had to make sure you were not planning on drowning yourself.” “I know how to swim, Rozanov,” Shane huffs, “and it is now that deep in here.” The Russian gives him a playful look across the pool. Shane’s skin tingles where Ilya’s hands touched him just a moment ago, and he pushes away a longing thought, that he wants to feel the alpha’s arms wrap around him again. Rozanov takes long leisurely strokes across the pool, and Shane tries not to stare at the bulge of his muscles or at the tanned skin, glistening under the Californian sun. Los Angeles has been good to Ilya. It makes his hair curlier, and his face flushed and warm from all the tanning, and he smiles more, his teeth sharp and white against his darkened skin. Shane likes the look of eternal summer on him, and it is not good for either his heart, nor his poorly concealed desire. “I thought you wanted to swim,” Rozanov’s annoyed voice shakes Shane out of his lingering. “Come on, Hollander. Entertain me.” Shane looks around. He is worried. A part of him knows that Ilya is right, they are alone, but the idea that someone could come in, and see the two of them together, nudges him uncomfortably.

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  15. “Oh, Hollander,” Ilya sighed, cradling Shane’s face, thumbs gently stroking his freckled cheeks. “You are omega.” It wasn’t a question. Shane nodded pathetically, breathing heavily. “And you are in heat, yes?” One curious hand trailed down, squeezing hard. Biting back a moan at the slick pooling in his boxers, Shane nodded. “I forgot my suppressants,” he said, breathless. “I— I usually just take suppressants all season and then… deal with it myself the rest of the time. But I guess I forgot to pack them. I don’t know what to do.” --- Ilya helps Shane through an unexpected heat.

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  16. shane hollander is pretty sure he’s pregnant.

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  17. Shane Hollander has been keeping his identity a secret for his entire hockey career. How could he be so irresponsible as to lose his suppressants?

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