1 – 17 of 17 Works in Verbal Humiliation
- Verbal Humiliation ×
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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.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 43,256
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #92895931
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"Holy shit!" Vic gasps, gaping at Ilya. "Holy shit," he repeats more slowly as realization dawns on him. "Shane Fucking Hollander is your Montreal girl?"
OR: Ilya's teammates go with him to visit Hollander at the hospital and a high-on-painkillers Shane can't keep his mouth shut. Ilya learns that when it comes down to it, ice is thicker than blood.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 58,888
- Chapters:
- 9/?
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79136446
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Shane and Luke were highschool sweethearts, they had plans to go into the NHL together, play alongside each other, start to really plan their future as a couple.
But when an injury crushes Shane's only dream, he's forced to sit back and watch as his boyfriend goes onto do everything that should've been his.
Everything except beating the best player in the entire NHL league.
Or,
Shane had grown tired of his boyfriend, Ilya Rozanov is more than happy to give him an upgrade.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 28,748
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #89808111
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Doin' Time (Among Other Things) by heauregard
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-07-06
Shane Hollander writes to an inmate, at first intending to do nothing other than quell his lonely curiosity. Somehow, they end up meeting...in the woods...at Shane's perverted request.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,205
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #88094836
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Obsessively Yours by Imyourlovelybabe
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
2026-05-17
Obsessive fanboy Shane Hollander breaks into Russian model Ilya Rozanov’s house, expecting to get closer to the man he worships only to be caught when Ilya returns home early. Instead of calling the authorities, Ilya decides to punish Shane personally, turning the encounter into a dark, controlling game of dominance and obsession.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,246
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #85032556
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Ilya:
9/10 she had frecklesShane:
7.5/10 Medium dick but he ate my ass like he was starving for it---
Shane and Ilya call it quits after the All-Stars game when Ilya says they can't be anything. He says no one will fuck Shane like he can, and Shane takes that personally, starting a two year cycle of sending each other ratings of the other people they fuck
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,424
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #83834991
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pretty (kind of dirty face) by Anonymous
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2026-04-11
Shane Hollander, a well booked, in demand model is back for the summer for a well deserved break. It was all going so well until his car decides to break down. Unsure of what to do, he calls the first garage he can find, not expecting to meet the most infurtiating, aggravating and beautiful man he had ever seen.
Or,
Shane's a brat who is used to getting what he wants, Ilya Rozanov doesn't give into a pretty face that easy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 25,178
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #82209291
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“No, no. Answer. Tell me. How’s it feel to be a fucking winner, and then to bend over and take my cock? You feel like a winner, Hollander? Do you feel like a winner now?” Ilya hisses. He’s being cruel. There is no choice, he just is, no matter how much he hates it. It doesn’t help anything. He can’t stop it.
“Yes,” Shane hisses. “Fuck, yes. I’m a fucking winner,” he gasps.
---
Ilya takes Sasha up on his offer to do cocaine during the 2014 Sochi Olympics, and then he fucks Shane instead of dealing with his feelings.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,067
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #81851801
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The Winner's Room would be a mind fuck all on its own. It's just that Shane is also trying to ignore the fact that he's gay, a bottom, and submissive. All of the things he isn't suppose to be. It would be easier if Shane didn't score a lot of game winning goals, but that wasn't the kind of thing he could just stop doing. He would really like it if the Player's Association had provided the social rules of the Winner's Room along with all of the technical ones. Like everything else Shane has to figure out how to make himself fit into what is expected of him.
He learns a lot from his first three Forfeits.
- Part 1 of Winner Takes All
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,436
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #81194791
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“Fuck, that’s good. You feel so good,” Shane moans above him.
He pulls him down again, and this time he holds him there, his hands firm on Ilya’s head. Instinctively, Ilya fights it, his throat spasming around the intrusion, and he tries to pull off, but Shane holds him there.
“Ah, ah. No. That’s not how you say it’s too much. You tap my leg, remember?”
---
Immediate sequel to 'I Keep Telling Myself, I'm not the Desperate Type'
Stoner frat boy Ilya x cool, jock Shane- Part 2 of Stoner Ilya
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,894
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80480761
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Shane stares at the fabric in his hands and takes a deep breath. He’ll never hear the fucking end of it if he wears this thing out. He’ll never hear the end of it if he doesn’t. Lose-lose, really. A whoop sounds out behind him as Shane slips the jersey over his head. It sits awkwardly, though he can’t tell if that’s because the material is brand new or because his body won’t relax. It’s hot, as if the fabric lettering on the back is branding his skin. As if he’ll take off the jersey and be marked for life: ROZANOV. 81. Shane wears Ilya's jersey out in public. Ilya has very strong feelings about it.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,062
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79932816
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Shane steps closer, standing between Ilya’s legs. “I guess that explains it, hm? You don’t have to be confident or good when you’re packing that, do you? You just let people use your big,” Shane accentuates the word by leaning down and touching Ilya’s cock for the first time, only it’s not a caress or a stroke, it’s a rude poke that makes Ilya’s cock jerk in the air, “cock, however they want to? Is that it? Just a thick, fat cock for people to ride when you get too fucking stupid to do anything else?”
---
Uni AU, loser, stoner frat bro Ilya, pining after popular, jock Shane
- Part 1 of Stoner Ilya
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 16,549
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #80071181
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Fans and internet passerby alike would agree that this… interaction was not a fight. A fight required the participation of two or more partners. At that moment, Ilya was the only one on the ice. The world fell away at the sight of Shane’s stumble, pulsing gently in and out of frame before cutting out completely and giving way to pure static. His blood turned carbonated, noxious gases inside him that rose and burst him open. At that moment, he and everyone else, including Burt, knew he intended to kill.
Or, Montreal's newest player makes the mistake of fucking with Ilya Rozanov's Husband.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,317
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #79739096
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Staring suspiciously at Rozanov, Shane starts blindly fumbling with the tissue paper. He’s just starting to think that this is a very weird prank and there’s actually nothing in the bag when finally his fingers close around something… silky. Thin and silky. That draws his eyes back away from Rozanov down to his hands — more specifically, to the fucking panties that he’s just untangled from the tissue paper.
He should probably ask what the big idea is, but his brain has gone all fuzzy and his mouth has gone dry. There are several beats of silence before he manages to speak, and even then, all he manages to croak out is, “Um…?”
“You have this thing, gifts, in Canada, yes?” says Rozanov. “Is for you. You’re welcome.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,806
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #77604736
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Rozanov posts on Instagram a lot. Not on his feed, but his stories. Every time he lands in a city, he posts a story. Usually it's just back of his seat, or sometimes the view out the window—on the tarmac, never anything exciting, one of just many cities their lives are broken up into—and a location tag. Low effort. It’s pretty obvious what it is. Guys laugh about it, call it Rozanov’s Fuck Signal. The easiest way to get the hot girls who follow him to slide into his DMs. Easy pussy.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,682
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #77262141
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Ilya is fairly certain that you don’t accidentally walk in on your roommate half naked this often. Shane, for his part, seems completely uninterested in correcting that assumption. The semester has only just started and Rozanov has lost count of how many times hes walked in on Hollander getting dressed in their dorm room. Its becoming a bit of a problem. "Stop making this habit, Hollander," he groans and raises his hand to his eyes. But he allows himself a small gap between his fingers to get a look without his roommate noticing. Across the room, Hollander stands in a white towel and is frantically pushing clothes around on his bed to presumably find something to wear. He shifts and leans awkwardly, his towel opening to reveal a long stretch of muscled leg and the curve of Hollanders ass. "I swear, Im not," he says defensively. "You just have terrible timing." "Change in washroom. Like others," Rozanov mumbles. And he peeks again despite himself but immediately regrets it and snaps his fingers closed when he catches a quick glimpse of the dark hair between Hollander's thighs and the length of his soft cock. Feeling like being an asshole, and also maybe hoping to see more, Rozanov drops his hand and gives Hollander a once over. Hes blushing now and piling a shirt and pair of trousers into his arms. "You could just knock, like a normal person." "Is my room too, Hollander," he says, temper rising at the notion. "I know that, but still. Ease up, eh?" "Easel up, eh?" Rozanov mocks his accent back and makes his way over to his side of the room. Hollander just huffs and with a final survey of his bed, he finds a white pair of socks and makes a beeline for their shared washroom. "I'm going to get dressed in the washroom, now." “Good job, Hollander,” Rozanov calls after him. “Here is gold star for you.” When the sound of water starts in the bathroom, probably Hollander brushing his teeth or shaving his non existent facial hair, Ilya takes off his own hoodie. His fingers dig into the dark green material and he pulls it over his head and tosses it down onto the floor beside his bed. Next he tugs off his shirt, a simple t-shirt, white and featuring a Canadian band he liked as a kid, Billy Talent. Something he listened to a lot on his walkman, enjoying the way the English rolled around in his mind. He rubs his rough hands down the center of his torso, up and down the planes of skin and then he thinks... Maybe, perhaps, Hollander could do with a taste of his own medicine. Rozanov would be lying if he claimed he hadn’t imagined it before. Hollander flustered and pink, probably caught off guard. Hollander looking at him like that. The sight of him in a towel alone is enough to wind something tight and aching in Rozanov’s gut. If Hollander pushed--if he teased-- Preferably beneath him. The bathroom door opens. Hollander steps back into the room, fully dressed now, hair neatly combed. He stops short when he sees Rozanov shirtless on his bed. “Why are you undressed?” Hollander asks. “You just gave me shit about that. Like, two minutes ago.” He smells like mint and coconut and Rozanov hates that he knows that. Rozanov pulls his hand from his abdomen which has by now trailed far lower than he intended, "Is nothing. Leave me alone, Hollander." Brown eyes fall to where Ilyas hips sit in his jeans and he catches onto Hollanders eyes to let him know hes been caught. "Okay," is all he says, and settles into his bed. The next evening, Rozanov waits in their room. He knows that Hollander is supposed to be back from an extra hockey practise shortly. And he also knows that he'll be filled with adrenaline, his hair and skin damp with sweat. Thinking about it has him half hard in his trousers already. Eagerly, he shimmies out of them until theyre pooled around his ankles and he unbuttons his shirt with trembling fingers. The shirt finds its way to the floor. In only his white boxers and socks, he sits up on the edge of his bed. From his nightstand, he takes out a magazine he keeps burried under a pile of nonsense school work.
- Part 7 of heated rivalry: explicit collection
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,589
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76965581
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“Okay. You want to say no, you want to fight me. Pretty boy, all alone in his glass house. You want me to force you?” He didn’t need Shane to answer, really; Shane was fully hard against Ilya’s thigh and pink under his freckles. But it was best to be direct about these things. And he wanted to hear Shane say it, anyway. “I—yeah. Make me. Is that too weird?”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,270
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76506621