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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    The first time it happens is an accident.

    Every other time after that is not.

    or: Shane’s nails dig into Ilya’s back and leave eight perfect marks. It starts a dangerous game of leaving each other's bodies marked, and it only escalates over time.

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    09 Sep 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “You like it, right?” Shane whispered against his lips.

    “Hm?” Ilya tried hard to focus on Shane’s words but Shane felt too good, the pressure of his ass on Ilya’s crotch too maddeningly distracting.

    Shane leaned in so that his mouth was now right on Ilya’s ear, stilling his movements. “I said,” he breathed hotly, “you like it? Being my dog?”

    And this was new. The words sent an electric shock down Ilya’s spine, making him involuntarily thrust up into Shane. Ilya swallowed, closing his eyes and nodding furiously, as Shane nibbled on his ear lobe and sucked sweetly at the skin there.

    “Speak,” Shane said simply, the same tone he used when talking to Chiron or Anya. When talking to dogs.

    “Fuck,” Ilya choked out. “Yes, da, yes, I like being your dog.”

    or, Ilya discovers a new kink about himself.

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    09 Sep 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Hollander,” Ilya replied stiffly, trying his best to school his tone. “You never call me.”

    “I need–nngh–“ he panted out.

    Ilya froze, all of the questions in his head like “What are you doing?” and “Why are you calling me?” and “Why haven’t we spoken in so long?” immediately dissipating because that didn’t matter, not when it sounded like–

    “Are…are you touching yourself, Hollander?” Ilya asked, voice dropping low.

    “N-no,” Shane whimpered and fuck he missed hearing him like this. His thready breaths alone made Ilya grab at his sheets, his dick immediately perking up in interest. “I’m not–I’m not touching. I’m–fuck–”

    “You’re what?” Ilya demanded. “Finish the sentence.”

    “I’m humping a pillow.” The admission hung heavy in the air, and for a split second, Ilya lost all ability to speak.

    Shane Hollander wakes up with a vagina and can't get himself off. He calls the one person who can help him.

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    09 Sep 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “You are my favorite, you know this?” as he pushed a strand of hair out of Shane's forehead.

    “What?” Shane said, his mind still hazy at the edges.

    “My favorite. I tell everyone. Jane. My favorite girl. My special girl.”

     

    4:23 AM: @j._monamour posted a new story.
    [img: Rumpled white sheets, in the interior of Ilya Rozanov's home, Boston]
    [tagged: @ilyarozanov81]

     

    OR

     

    Shane starts a secret instagram account and quickly becomes well known as Rozanov's favorite girl. They're both too stubborn to let anyone else have the other.

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    09 Sep 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    And then, just as Ilya is about to fish out key, fit it into lock (because what if Shane is not okay? What if Shane is inside, and he needs Ilya, like he did on the ice that fucking day, when Ilya couldn’t even touch him) fucking finally, door opens, and Shane is there, and then?

    Ilya blinks at Shane. Shane blinks at Ilya.

    The fucking baby Shane is holding in his hands, bouncing its little body absently, just so it giggles, a tone of pure joy, fixes it big eyes on Ilya, and chirps cheerfully, “Da da!”

    Ilya is best hockey player in the world. He’s had his bell rung countless times, is no stranger to taking a hit and feeling like world is spinning beneath his feet.

    The sight of a baby nestled in Shane’s arms, like it belongs there, smiling at him, hits him like two hundred pounds of muscle have never managed, leaves him reeling.

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    09 Sep 2026