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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Come on,” Comeau says. “Are we all just supposed to pretend it's normal that you’re still playing house with Ilya Rozanov?”

    “Gil—” J.J. says, but Shane doesn’t want him to finish that sentence, to pull Comeau gently off the ledge he’s steering himself toward. Shane wants to push him, kicking and screaming, to make them say it to his fucking face. That after all this time, they still hate him for the heinous crime of falling in love.

    “We’ve been married for two years,” Shane says. “I’m not sure that qualifies as playing house. I mean, it’s longer than you were with your first wife, isn’t it?”

    Or: Shane reunites with his former teammates at J.J.'s bachelor party. He's finally ready to say (and maybe punch) his piece.

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    23 Feb 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya's face split into a wide grin. It made his eyes sparkle. Shane wanted to kiss him very badly. "Oh. Oh. You are very drunk."

    "I wouldn't say very drunk. I'm normal drunk." Shane corrected, stepping closer to Ilya until they were barely centimeters apart. Shane reached up and wrapped his arms around Ilya's neck. They were so close and he smelled so good. Shane breathed him in for a second. Fuck, he had missed him so badly. It had only been two weeks, but it felt like forever.

    "I missed you too." Ilya whispered. Wait, had Shane said that out loud? Oops. Maybe he was very drunk. "More than you know."

    Or, the transition from friends with benefits to lovers is far from seamless.

    Language:
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    23 Feb 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    When he finally looked at Shane again, Shane knew exactly what he was going to escape his mouth.

    “Don’t,” Shane croaked. “Please don’t say it.”

    Ilya sighed, “Sweethe—Shane. This… I should not have done that. That was a mistake.”

    Rejection washed over Shane, a dirty and miserable feeling.

    (Or what happens when Shane confesses and Ilya pushes him away? Ft. a jealous, jealous Ilya Rozanov)

    Language:
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    22 Feb 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “Don’t they still hurt, Ilya?

    “I should not. I can hurt—”

    “What about here? You have fed from here before,” Shane asks, a mischievous look in his eyes, as he brings Ilya’s hand up to rest on the outer part of his shoulder.

    Fed, God, it makes him feel like a child that needs to be taken care of. Lazy, cannot even catch his own food—

    “Let me help,” Shane whispers, “Let me keep them warm as well.”

    OR: the vampire ilya smut no one asked for, ft human shane inventing the concept of fang-warming.

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    22 Feb 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Based off of my tweet, a fic in which a very married Shane meets art curator Ilya at an art gala, and they simply cannot resist each other.

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    22 Feb 2026