Svampar



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    The first time Shane faces Ilya Rozanov, it’s his ease that gets to him, the way he moves. Watching him feels like losing control, like the ice itself is tilting beneath Shane’s feet.

    Two years later, he doesn’t expect to hear that name again.

    But then a league-grey envelope arrives, sealed too tightly to be casual. And inside, a name is attached to his.

    SHANE HOLLANDER (SUBMISSIVE): ASSIGNED TO ILYA ROZANOV (DOMINANT)

    Or: Shane Hollander has spent years passing as a Dom: long enough to make the roster, long enough to keep it, and long enough that he can't afford to examine the foundation of the lie anymore. But the MLH has finally noticed the cracks, and their solution is Ilya Rozanov, of all people. Rival. Dom. And the last person Shane would choose.

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    22 Jun 2026

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  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “Mmm. You want it bad,” Ilya purrs, teeth grazing the column of his throat.

    “Yeah,” Shane whines, hating how petulant it sounds. A fresh flare of determination rises up in response. “Just give it to me. Ilya. I can—just go hard. Just make it fit.”

    Ilya laughs quietly, incredulously. It’s hot against Shane’s ear. “Make it fit."

    -

    Or: in the midst of a stressful season, Shane's a little... out of practice. He's not gonna let that stop him getting what he wants.

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    22 Jun 2026

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  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane and Ilya collide on the ice in 2008, and Shane's career is over before it begins.

    In 2014, when they meet each other in a club in Boston, Ilya wants to make it up to him.

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    11 Jun 2026

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  4. Public Bookmark 47

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    As he stared at the sleeping figure in front of him whose breathing was so shallow he wasn't sure if it was real, Shane couldn’t help but hear alarm bells in the back of his head. Something was wrong. But he couldn’t figure out what.

    The room felt colder. Quieter. Emptier. And everything in Shane’s head screamed wrong wrong wrong.

    His eyes moved around the room, trying to find the danger he knew in his soul that was lurking. He found none, until he finally looked at the nightstand next to Ilya and noted a plastic yellow bottle he had seen before. A bottle with a white label. A bottle leftover from Ilya’s broken arm that he never touched. A bottle that was laying on its side, previously full and now empty. Next to it an empty glass bottle of vodka, a piece of paper, and a pen.

    The feeling inside of him snapped, and Shane finally had a name for the feeling he had been carrying for the last several days. Now with the cold dread of realization that he listened to it too late.

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    22 Jun 2026

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    Last read chapter 3

  5. Public Bookmark 80

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    He slowly disentangles himself from Ilya’s grip, never being more thankful that his husband’s the world’s heaviest sleeper. His fingers tingle as he sits up, feeling as though he’d slept on his hands all night. He pads slowly over to the bathroom, raising a shaking hand to close the door gently, wincing as it makes contact with the door frame. The bathroom isn’t large, but he instinctively heads for the corner furthest away from the door, jamming himself between the bath and the wall, pressing his spine as far into the corner as he can as his breaths begin to cycle quicker.

    Shane has a panic attack in the middle of the night. Ilya loves him through it.

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    22 Jun 2026

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