newyorksubwayrat



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    “If I didn’t know better,” Ilya had drawled, mostly teasing, as Shane pressed adoring, apologetic kisses into his shoulder, after a hard night out a few months back. “I’d think you were embarrassed to be with me. A first for me. I will try not to let it wound my pride.”

    “You’re pride is fine,” Shane griped out of habit and then had nuzzled closer, held Ilya tighter because he hated that he could make Ilya feel that way. “I’m sorry. I know I do it. It’s hard for me after so long. I love you so much, it scares me shitless sometimes.”

    Shane's working on letting go of the control that's kept him and Ilya safe for the past ten years. The fact that he's Shane Hollander means that he's got a plan. The fact that he's with Ilya Rozanov means that plan involves fucking him stupid. And for once, Shane's kind of ready to be the one who drives Ilya out of his mind.

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    12 Aug 2026

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Jackie’s birthday, filthy fucking sex

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Sometimes life came at you with a clenched fist and Ilya had never figured out how to duck.

    So here he was, twenty-eight years old, single, dealing with the fallout from injuries given to him by the game he loved, and the second youngest assistant coach in the league to one of the worst teams. Stability was hard to come by, but he was managing.

    Then along came Shane Hollander to knock him on his ass, one more time.

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    16 Jun 2026

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