SongBirdA



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    "Well, Hollander. Winner gets to choose what we get up to tonight, as agreed, yes?"
    "Yes," he grumbles. Shane pulls his shirt off over his head in one move, folding it on the counter. "Where do you want me?"
    "For what? You think I want to fuck you?"
    "Uh...yes?"
    Rozanov gives an exaggerated stretch. "But I worked so hard out there, beating lovely Montreal asses. I'm tired. I think I will lie down and let you do work tonight."
    "You..." Shane's brain short-circuits. "Me do work?"
    "Yes, Hollander."
    "You want me to ride you?"
    "No," he says softly. "I want you to fuck me."

    Dom from the bottom Ilya x sub from the top Shane, in the ep4 montage situationship era

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    20 Jun 2026

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    “I won’t laugh.” Bucky straightens out both his back and his expression and scoots closer, knee colliding with Sam’s own. He keeps it there; it feels hot and solid, even through the kevlar. “C’mon, I promise. Just tell me.”

    Sam turns it over in his head for a long moment. Swallows hard. Rubs his palms across his thighs.

    “Okay,” he says, looking away. “Do you believe in ghosts, man?”

    Bucky laughs, the asshole.

    Sam has been haunted all his life. This is the first time he's ever thought of telling anyone about it.

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    20 Jun 2026

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    Ilya picks up on the third ring, breathing heavily into the phone. Shane hears a door slam shut through the device. “Do not yell at me.” 

    Shane stares at the half-empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table. “You suck.”

    “I suck? I scored hat-trick! In your stupid body! I have not eaten in six hours, Hollander. I have not pissed. I have not laid down. I want to go home.” 

    “Rozanov–” 

    “Your mother has called twenty times. Your manager has called thirty times. Your father text me picture of crossword puzzle and ask for help. Clue is about American President from the 1980s. I cannot help!”

    OR: the hollanov bodyswap fic. 

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    19 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “You broke up with her,” Ilya says, arms loosening against his chest.

    “No, she, uh—” Shane ducks his head, avoiding Ilya’s eyes. “We slept together. And she kind of … she didn’t confront me, I guess. But she talked to me. Kind of hinted that she thought I might not be…”

    “Into girls?” Ilya finishes for him.

    “Something like that.”

    “You denied it?” 

    “No, I— I told her. About me. About—us,” Shane’s head snaps up, a hand lifted in Ilya’s direction. “Not about us, us. That I’d been sleeping with someone. Another player. I didn’t tell her about you.”

    OR: Shane comes out to Rose and runs toward the safest pair of arms he knows: Ilya’s. 

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    19 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “I cannot believe you waited two hours to pay my bail just so you could pick me up and yell at me.”

    “Am I yelling?”

    “Not yet.”

    “Shut up.” Innocently, Ilya holds his hands up. “Put your seatbelt on, please.”

    Such a sweetheart. Ilya does it. He’s not in much of a position to be saying no to Shane, and probably won’t be for the rest of their lives. Hey, remember that time I had to bail you out of jail? Yes, Shane.

    or: Ilya’s speeding, for once, has consequences, and there’s only one person he can call for help.

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    18 Jun 2026