LovelyLeniece
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Ilya pulls back first, breathing hard, eyes blazing down at Shane. He drags a thumb across Shane’s swollen lips. “Is your first time with a man?”
Shane huffs a wrecked laugh, chest rising and falling fast. “Definitely not.”
Ilya’s grin is sharp and almost feral. “Good. I want to hear you.”
Shane is two years younger than Ilya and they play for the same team.
But what if Shane was a bit wilder, less afraid to experiment sexually, and a bit more of a typical ice hockey guy?
Get ready for teammates to friends to friends with benefits to lovers.
(Please note that Shane/Hayden are tagged because they’re 18/19 and a little bit sexually curious and I’m a believer in over-tagging. Also from Ch4 out it’s full of explicit sex, fair warning.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 88,425
- Chapters:
- 25/25
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- 3,503
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- 4,305
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Bookmarked by LovelyLeniece
20 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
My Favorite Part's
He sinks down, back against the door, and hugs his knees. He can do this. He can do this. He can do this. Big breath in, big breath out.
But he’s just a boy, only eighteen. A tall, hockey-playing mama’s boy who already misses home so badly it makes his chest ache.He fumbles in his suitcase, fingers shaking, and pulls out the ratty old Snoopy he swore he’d leave behind, but he just couldn’t do it; some pathetic part of him still needs him. He presses his face into those floppy ears, worn soft from years of the same thing, and lets them soak up all his tears and everything he can’t say out loud.
On his first night alone in Montreal, Shane Hollander, NHL future superstar, cries himself to sleep.Shane sits there a minute longer, hand still in Hayden’s loose grip, staring at the wall.
when they were hopping into Ubers, Hayden had made a comment about choosing Shane’s outfit, and it sounded like they had gotten ready, together.
And Hayden looks at Shane with those ridiculously big blue eyes and Ilya swears that sometimes he sees something familiar and, just maybe, queer in that friendship.
Oh, and Hayden had gone home with Shane. Granted, Hayden had been fucking wasted and falling over his own feet. But still. Whatever. Ilya wonders if they slept in the same bed. The thought makes his stomach feel a little tight.“Okay, I got it. Hearing you speak it is… nice. Were you teased for being Japanese?” Ilya asks.
“Yep. A lot.” Shane nods. No one ever asks him that. “They teased me until I got really good at hockey and bulked the fuck up. Then everyone shut the fuck up and left it alone.”After a minute, Shane hears the creak of mattress springs. Ilya crosses the space between the beds, lifts the edge of Shane’s covers, and slides in behind him without asking. Shane doesn’t protest. Ilya’s arm drapes over his waist, chest warm against Shane’s back. They fit together easily, like they’ve done this before.
In the locker room, Hayden changes back into Shane’s hoodie, peeling tape off the top of his stick.
Ilya walks by, stops, and stares at the logo on the back.
His face goes tight.“What the hell’s his problem?” Hayden asks.
“No idea,” Shane lies, stomach twisting.“I just… not him, please, I just wanted to….” He stops and swallows.
Shane stares. The anger in his gut twists into something hotter and messier. “You’re jealous of Hayden.”
Ilya’s laugh is hollow. “Yes. Okay. I am jealous of Hayden. Happy now?”
“No,” Shane snaps. “I’m not happy. You walk in here acting like I betrayed you, when you literally told me we’re both free to fuck whoever. You said it. You said ‘you fuck women too, don’t be weird.’ You said, Ilya, you said we don’t have to pretend. So what changed?”
“I can’t explain, but it’s changed,” Ilya sighs and shakes his head.Shane rides the elevator back up alone. The doors close with that soft ding, and the second he's sealed in, the tears come. Hot, stupid, unstoppable. He wipes at his eyes with the heel of his hand, angry at himself, at Ilya, at the whole fucking mess. His reflection in the metal walls looks wrecked. Red-rimmed eyes, flushed cheeks, hair still messed from Hayden's fingers. He looks like someone who just got caught doing something wrong. Because he did.
"Hey," Shane whispers, voice a little hoarse still. "Your turn. Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had."
Ilya stills for a heartbeat. Then he pulls back just enough to meet Shane’s eyes. He cups Shane’s cheek with one big hand, thumb stroking over the freckles there like he is tracing a constellation.
"Yes," Ilya says. "Yes, you are." He swallows. The words come slower. "No contest. Not even close. You have ruined everyone else for me, Shane.""Only us," Ilya whispers into his hair.
"Only us," Shane answers, and finally sleeps.“It’s your prize, Solnyshko. Let me give it to you properly.”
“What does sol-nish-ka mean?” Shane asks breathlessly.
Ilya thinks for a moment. “It means sunshine, but more like, sweetheart. Is that okay?”
“That’s so cute. Yes. That’s okay.”Oh, and Beau watches them text each other. All the damn time. One of them types something, then puts their phone down. Then the other one’s phone vibrates and is grabbed immediately. Then they both blush, maybe bite their lip, and quickly put their phones face down.
It actually is really cute.“Why are you blushing?” Ilya asks, as if Shane is being completely ridiculous.
“Because you saw my dildo! And my Snoopy!”
Ilya shrugs.
“I just ate your ass and made you come hands-free. I can handle these things.”
Shane stammers. Hard to argue with that.“You are the best thing to happen to me too, Shane. Ya tebya lyublyu.”
“Aishiteru,” Shane replies. -
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Summary
On the morning of the Boston's game versus Ottawa, Cliff wakes up in search of Shane. He finds him in the kitchen making breakfast in a familiar hoodie.
Series
- Part 3 of The Hollaneau Files
Bookmarked by LovelyLeniece
08 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
My Favorite Part's
"Good morning." Cliff rumbled, his voice low and husky from sleep as he pressed his body against Shane's as tightly as possible.
"Apparently." Shane replied teasingly with a little bit of a laugh, grinding his hips backwards against Cliff's erection, making him groan into Shane's ear.
"Are you wearing my shirt?" Cliff asks, and it's a stupid fucking question. He knows that Shane is wearing his shirt. It's his last name is emblazoned across Shane's shoulders right now. But Cliff can't resist the urge to tease Shane a little bit.
"Obviously." Shane replied dryly, still grinding his ass against his hard on mindlessly. "Now go away and go on your run, I should have breakfast done by the time you get back." Shane ordered, using his own bulk to attempt to shake Cliff off, but he just wrapped his arms more tightly around Shane refusing to be moved. He ground his hips forward making Shane gasp and shudder in his arms. He hooked his chin over Shane's shoulder, and looked down at what Shane had been so intently reading when Cliff walked in. It was a recipe for crêpes, if Cliff wasn't so turned on, he would be feeling a very different feeling that was much more soft and gooey.
"What if I'd rather eat something else for breakfast? Cliff asked, his voice low and rumbling as he continued the slow suggestive grind of their hips.
"My ass is not a healthy or balanced breakfast Mon loup." Shane replied dryly and fuck that should absolutely not turn Cliff on the way it does.
He sucked Shane to the base, bobbing his head quickly. He uses one hand to stroke Shane's cock in time with his mouth, making sure no part of Shane remains unstimulated. It's wet, and sloppy, and this is spit covering his chin making a mess of Cliff's short beard. But Shane is making the hottest moans from above him. Shane mutters filthy praise in French while pulling Cliff's hair with one hand, while his other clutches the counter for support.
He allowed himself to be pushed out of his own kitchen, if only so he didn't give into temptation to bend Shane over the counter and make him cum a second time this morning.
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Summary
When Shane flies to Boston so that he can watch Cliff play in the first game of the 2014-2015 pre season, he winds up meeting his boyfriend's parents and siblings. It goes about as well as can be expected.
This story is a companion piece to my story Not A Puck Bunny, but it can be read as a stand alone story.
Series
- Part 2 of The Hollaneau Files
Bookmarked by LovelyLeniece
08 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
My Favorite Part's
"Please stop talking." Cliff whined into his hands, still hiding his face in them.
"Oh my god. I know where babies come from. I'm asking why you had to make Jace." Katie whine and Cliff was really tempted to throw something at her.
"It's not our fault that we had a healthy sex life and your father has a big penis." Cliff thinks he might die of embarrassment. He won't even blame Shane for breaking up with him because of this.
"No one is allowed to say penis again." Cliff stated once he was finally able to pick his face up out of his hands.
Thankfully Shane wasn't running away, screaming back to Montreal. He was still standing next to Cliff rubbing his back and laughing softly.
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While out at a club in New York to celebrate Pike and Jackie's joint bachelor/bachelorette party Shane runs into someone unexpected, Cliff Marleau. Feeling hurt and petty after having been ghosted by Ilya for the past six months Shane decides to hook up with Marleau.
Ilya is back in Russia and regrets having ghosted Shane. He thinks he will have time to fix things, to make things right, once he returns to Boston in the fall. What Ilya doesn't expect is to return only to find out Shane and Marleau are now in a relationship.
Series
- Part 1 of The Hollaneau Files
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 82,808
- Chapters:
- 12/?
- Comments:
- 2,242
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- 6,098
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- 2,203
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- 203,673
Bookmarked by LovelyLeniece
07 Jun 2026
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Bookmarker's Notes
~~Only 12 chapters are out, but amazing stuff so far, excited for more! My Favorite Part's~~
God, he can't believe that he texted that to Rozanov. Worse, he can't believe how stupid he looks in those texts. He remembers those texts being a lot clearer and spelled correctly. Drunk Shane is clearly an unreliable narrator, Shane thinks miserably, throwing an arm over his eyes to fully block out the sight.
"Put me down for two hundred before the wedding. They've been going at it so much that if rabbits could talk they would say that they fuck like Hayden and Jackie," Shane replied, looking back down at his phone when it pings with a new text from Cliff.
Shane is six feet tall and damn near two hundred pounds of solid, functional muscle, he's the best hockey player in the league, he's a once—or twice— in a generation talent. And yet, Shane will never get over how hot it is to be carried or manhandled with ease. There is just something so hot about a man who can physically hold Shane down and fuck him until he cries. Sometimes, Shane liked to be treated like he was some delicate, slip of a thing, rather than Canada's Golden Boy, Shane Hollander.
"Fuck, baby. Feel so good. So fucking tight," Cliff growled, starting to run his mouth as he continued fucking Shane without stopping. Shane was still riding him, panting like a bitch in heat as those loud, punched-out moans escaped from his mouth.
"So big, fill me up so good," Shane managed to say between moans, pressing back against Cliff's cock and grinding down against his hips. Shane moaned when Cliff’s cock pressed up against his prostate, sending electricity shooting up his spine and making his entire body go tense, clenching down on the cock filling him up. Cliff gripped his ass even tighter, and Shane is sure he'll have bruises tomorrow. He can't wait."On the record?" Shane says softly once his giggles subsided. Cliff hummed in response, letting Shane know he had Cliff's full attention. "You make me really happy to." The statement makes Cliff smile so hard his face hurts. He tilts his head forward, leaning in close as he cups Shane's jaw in the palm of his hand before drawing him into a slow, tender kiss. Cliff lets the kiss drag on as long as he can, letting the chaste act of intimacy say all the words he isn't ready to say out loud.
You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You are worth every sacrifice I might have to make. Thank you for choosing me. I love you.Shane has to know how Ilya felt about him, doesn't he? He has to know that Ilya is in love with him? How could he not know that Ilya loves him? That he is the only person that Ilya wants, that no matter how many women he fucks he is always thinking of Shane, wishing they were him.
"And, and now you are fucking with my entire relationship." He can hear the hiccuped breaths Shane is making as he fights off his tears. "And I don't get it. What is it? If you can't have me, then no one else can?" Ilya doesn't know how to reply to that, because that isn't true, it can't be true, can it? "You're acting like a spoiled child, throwing a tantrum because someone else is playing with the toy that you discarded." Is that really how Shane sees him?Fuck, is Shane the hoe in the ‘bro before hoes’ in this clusterfuck?
Would Cliff see Shane as Ilya's sloppy seconds?
The words still made shame curdle in his stomach painfully. He doesn't want Cliff to see him that way. He doesn't want Ilya—or anyone, really—to think of him that way.
God, this is all so fucked.@shanehollanderofficial
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, especially when I get to share it with @killacliff
#bestboyfriendeverNo, there is nothing soft about this post. Shane had just full on hard launched his relationship with Cliff.
Marley!" he called out as Marley reached for the doorknob, making him pause. "I am sorry too."
"For what?" the other man asked, looking back over his shoulder at Ilya with a raised eyebrow.
"Because I am still in love with Hollander," Ilya admitted bluntly before continuing with the same cool, cocky demeanor he is famous for. "And now that the truth is all out there, I'm not going to give up on Shane—not this time."
Marley grinned over his shoulder at Ilya, matching his demeanor beat for beat.
"Well then," he replied in his own cool and cocky way. "May the best man win.""I want to look at my last name on your back while I fuck you until you cum on my cock."
"You're ridiculous," he told his boyfriend, fondness coloring his tone.
"Yeah, probably runs in the family," Cliff replied through a soft laugh while smiling broadly, making Shane snort. "Now gimme kiss." -
You’ll go to heaven and I’ll go to hell in the meantime by silversurfer
Fandoms: Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types
30 Mar 2026
Tags
Summary
After Vegas, Shane begins to give up on Ilya and looks for a new way to feel wanted.
Ilya, of course, finds out about this and locks in.
A small dose of jealousy and a bigger dose of communication add up to change the trajectory of their affair from 2014 onward.
Series
- Part 1 of 2014 Remix
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 29,141
- Chapters:
- 7/7
- Comments:
- 2,036
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- 12,655
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- 3,716
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- 183,396
Bookmarked by LovelyLeniece
02 May 2026
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Bookmarker's Notes
~~Wow... so fucking good! My Favorite Part's~~
No, the missing context here, in a life composed almost entirely of hockey, sponsorships, and Rozanov, was that he felt worthless to him.
“Get on your knees,” the moment the door closed behind him.
Oh, so we’re not going to kiss tonight either, he thought, and tears sprang to his eyes. He blinked and looked away, thankful for dim lighting. This routine wasn’t unfamiliar, he tried to remind himself, reaching for Rozanov’s pants, moving to kneel as though through molasses.
Without warning, a strong hand gripped his elbow, keeping him upright. “I change my mind. Bed first.” Rozanov followed this comment by grabbing his face with his other hand and kissing him with abandon, hungry and desperate and wet and magical. For Shane, it felt like coming up for air, like breaking through layers of ice in the arctic, like floating.
He grabbed the back of Rozanov’s neck and hung on as one would a life raft, careless of his nails biting into skin and making his rival chuckle. “Eager,” he teased, breaking away briefly, before Shane hauled him right back in.“You are right. We are here to fuck.” He sniffed, looking away. “So get on your knees, Hollander. I will fuck you.”
That order when he arrived made him feel cold. Had it happened a few minutes ago, he would have eagerly complied. Now, once again, the bad feeling was back, and he felt itchy and repulsed. “Nevermind. Fuck. I’ve got to … I’m just going to go.”
“Yes,” Rozanov sniped, “I’m sure your next hook up is waiting. How lucky they are.”
He should have just flipped him off and left; there was no actual requirement to be honest, but the (jealous?) cruelty, pouring from Ilya fucking Rozanov made his tongue loose as the tears, never far from the surface, sprung to his eyes again. “I don't actually meet them, asshole!” He mumbled the rest of the thought in rushed humiliation. “I just like reading the messages.”“I want you, and I do not want you to go.” Rozanov abruptly removed his hands, looking embarrassed at the repeated admission. “I know you must, but I do not want you to.” Upon close observation, Shane could see the moment his discomfort tipped into humor, his rival offering him a salacious grin. “I will miss this ass.” He punctuated the comment with a firm squeeze.
The action startled a small laugh out of Shane as he opened the door to leave. “I’ll miss you, too, Rozanov. Destroy Buffalo for me, okay?”Next time, I will eat you out until you cry.
Now send me dirty pictures.but seeing the line around the block waiting for him to fumble Shane shook something in him.
So there was jealousy, yes, buckets of it, but also the fear of letting a young friend walk at night in a bad neighborhood; strangers could be so dangerous for Shane. He was such a sweet thing. He moaned too loudly and followed orders without question, gave forehead kisses after sex and needed his hand held when he was entered. They wouldn’t be nice to him out there. They’d turn him bitter and ruin him.
“If you win, you can fuck me without a condom.”
Ilya felt the train of conversation in his head leave the track, then roll over, then fall off a cliff, tips of his fingers numb as his brain fell offline into a puddle of white noise and need.“Please,” Shane gasped the moment he recovered his breath. “Please fuck me. Please.”
“No,” Ilya declined regretfully and with great will power. “I am saving you for tonight.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking down at this disheveled, wanton person he craved so desperately. “You are my treat.”
Shane looked furious, but didn’t argue, instead hauling him down into a kiss, gripping the back of his neck before meeting his eyes wildly. “You better win tonight, Ilya. You have to fucking win.”You scare me more than anyone alive. You could kill me and not even know it. “But tell no one. Boston captains cannot be afraid of tiny, slow Canadians.”
“Tiny? We’re the same height, Ilya,” he huffed with a frown.What an ugly, terrible idea, that Shane was going to go. Ilya stuffed that thought down, certain it was much too early to be needy. He wanted to drive him, to at least carry his bags to the car, but of course, he couldn’t. Instead, he slid a hand over his cheek, thumb pausing before carding it through his hair. “Don’t win too much, Shane. I’m enjoying my lead in the scoring race.”
“No promises,” Shane replied breathlessly, looking at him lingeringly one more time.
That’s my boyfriend, Ilya thought, the word soothing the ache of the door closing behind him.