deva_nari



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Shane fucking Hollander. Hockey’s Golden Boy. Long-time crush of Ilya Rozanov. Long, looooong time. A decade of being a fucking simp for this man. God, he was in trouble.

    It should be pretty much illegal to go from their only contact being at face-off across the ice, to suddenly hosting Shane in his exclusive club—during a fucking event, no less. Ilya’s event.

    He would never admit it, but he’s been stealthily trying to get Hollander to show up at his club for years now. Hell, Shane was the whole reason he invested in the club in the first place. Bought a fucking house here. Maybe that was an insane thing to do, but he didn’t care. Ilya was insane. Insane for Shane.

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    06 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    The Ottawa Centaurs go to a bar after a game. There happens to a be a mechanical bull, and everyone puts money on who can last the longest on it. Everyone underestimates just how experienced Shane is at riding.

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    2,478
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    2/2
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    06 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 70

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    Ilya was standing in the tunnel to his right; he was quiet now, eyes glued to one place. Shane looked over, watching as Marleau wrapped his arms around Rozanov from behind. Watched the way Ilya’s body slowly lowered to the ground as a guttural cry tore out of his mouth.

    OR

    You're really going to have to trust me on this one.

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    2/10
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    59
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    06 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “Ilya?” Shane gasps at the barely standing figure at his doorstep.

    “Sorry.” Ilya hiccups. “Did not know where else to go.” That’s the last thing he says before he collapses into Shane’s arms.

    Or the Fighter Ilya x Nurse Shane AU nobody asked for.

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    06 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “This one is almost full,” Ilya said from across the living room. He was holding something up.

    They’d both ditched their jackets and rolled up their sleeves, so Shane’s eyes followed the line of Ilya's arm: shoulder, to bent elbow, to bare forearm, to wrist, to hand. Ilya’s fingers were wrapped around the neck of a champagne bottle. Shane wasn’t really certain how many there had been lying around–Yuna and David had been in charge of handling refreshments–but an open, nearly-full bottle indicated that perhaps there had been too much.

    “Bring it here and I’ll dump it out.”

    “Dump it out?” Ilya frowned, crossing the living room towards the kitchen. “And waste it?”

    “What would you rather do?”

    Ilya set the bottle on the counter and came up behind Shane, strong arms slinking around his waist, Ilya’s lips just barely brushing against his ear. It wasn’t surprising–they’d both been a little clingy ever since the ceremony.

    “I want to share it with you.”

    Shane and Ilya's wedding night, after the guests have gone home, and a bit of the day after.

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    English
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    1/1
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    06 Jun 2026