Midnight_kitti



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    The first time they’d done this, in Ilya’s bed, Shane had been mystified at Rozanov’s insistence that he not enter the nest without Shane’s permission. Now, Shane feels something akin to smugness flexing its claws in his chest. A primal satisfaction at the rightness that he is the one with the power - at present, if not for much longer - alpha just outside the nest and at his mercy.

    Like Shane will only yield for someone who has earned it. He can draw out Ilya’s suffering just a little longer, make him earn it.

    Shane rakes his gaze over the delicious chest and bicep muscles bunching above the edge of the nest. “Waiting for something, Rozanov?”

    “Are you going to let me into your nest, omega?” His pronunciation of the endearment is more Russian than English, accent thickening around the syllables.

    “Depends. You gonna give me your knot?”

    “Hm, does not sound like begging yet to me.”

    Some months after Shane recovers from rejection sickness in Ilya's bed, they share their heat/rut together at the cottage, both clinging to the delusion it's still casual.

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    18 May 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane is asleep next to him.
    But Ilya is hit with the overwhelming wave of fear and longing and heartbreak.

    He has four hours.

    Four hours before Shane has to wake up and pretends he’s not tired.
    Four hours before he has to pull on clothes, skin still warm from Ilya’s touch and drive back to Montreal because the universe doesn’t care that they love each other.
    Four hours before the distance stretches between them again and Ilya is left with a bed that feels too big and a chest that feels too small.

    Four hours before the leaving starts all over again.
    ----
    or: ilya lies next to shane. he drowns in his own mind, the love he feels for shane all that feels certain.

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    26 Apr 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Yearning so good

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “You are so pretty, Hollander. Your freckles err— take my breath.”

    Shane glares. “Rozanov, you can’t say that here,” he says through gritted teeth. “They can hear us.”

    “Who gives a fuck?” He declares with a careless shrug. “Whole world knows we are lovers, so what?”

    The world most definitely does not need to know that he’s on Ilya’s extensive fuck buddies roster.

    Or

    According to Ilya, Shane is the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. If you ask Shane, he’ll tell you they are just fuck buddies.

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    17 Apr 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane watches Ilya shove a hand through his hair, waits for him to meet his eyes. “You pretend to want things, pretend I can have things that we both know you won’t let me have,” he says, his newfound self-esteem carrying him past the point of no return. He wishes he’d never discovered it, because it’s making Ilya’s face do something awful.

    “Oh, you mean I hurt your feelings?”

    Close enough, Shane supposes, his chest aching again. He goes to lift his hand again, sees Ilya zero in on the movement, doesn’t. “I guess so.”

    Ilya scoffs, mean and sharp. “So sorry, Hollander, I didn’t mean to make you get so emotional about a casual fuck.”
    Asshole. So many times he has lobbed the word at Ilya in exasperation, reluctant affection and disbelief, but now he thinks it with vitriolic anger. “I think you should go.”

    Shane finally decides that Ilya's ability to weaponise sex isn't enough for him anymore. Ilya doesn't take it well, but Shane holds firm. Then they start to text about it. Sort of.

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    12 Apr 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane Hollander was perfect; the perfect son, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect friend. He had spent years refining perfection, making sure he was the picture of it. It was second nature after all these years; a suit that didn’t quite fit, but that he’d gotten used to.
    Enter Ilya Rozanov.

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    07 Apr 2026