1 – 8 of 8 Works in Literal_Multifandom_Trashcan

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  1. Shane pulled out the vodka handle, wiping the dust off. He stared at it for a long moment. Shane rarely drank hard liquor. It made his head spin and his stomach uncomfortable, wasn’t worth all the extra calories. Wasn’t even really meant to drink on his meds, but. It would make him feel worse. It would make him feel like absolute shit. And that was exactly what Shane was counting on. So he had stumbled over to the bathroom, flipped on the dim overhead light, sunk to the bathroom floor, and drank. or: shane hollander gets super drunk on the bathroom floor after a really bad few days. it is not fun for anyone involved, but luckily ilya is there to pick up the pieces

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  2. Pretty much the second Shane closed the car door, Ilya pounced on him, pulling him into a deep kiss like a man possessed. Shane made a little noise of surprise in the back of his throat before leaning into the kiss, allowing Ilya to explore his mouth with his tongue. “Not that I’m complaining,” Shane said, panting a little as he pulled away for air. “but what prompted this?” Ilya just hummed in the back of his throat, starting the car up. Music from his chill playlist permeated the car at a low volume. He started the drive back to their home, one thing on his mind. “Have I ever told you that you sound very hot when you speak French?” Ilya asked casually. He was going a little over the speed limit. Shane, for once, didn’t scold Ilya, instead too busy sputtering at Ilya’s words. “Seriously? That’s what has you hot and bothered?” Shane asked disbelievingly. or: ilya thinks its really, *really* hot when shane speaks french

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  3. Shane shut his eyes, leaning back against the couch. He was fine. He had to be. What am I meant to do, Shane thought desperately to himself, when I can’t remember why I was even recovering in the first place? or: shane relapses with his ed, no one has a good time

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  4. They had three chairs up at the countertop. If he sits in the second one, something bad will happen. Everyone will die. The house will explode. You can warn him. He has to sit in the first one or the third one. If not, everyone you love will die and it will all be your fault. Ilya moved to sit in the second chair. Shane bristled, hands trembling. “Don’t.” Shane snapped. Ilya froze, glancing at Shane with a concerned and confused expression. Shane inhaled, then exhaled. Guilt crawled up his throat. He was being fucking insane. Still though, what if he wasn’t being insane? What if there was a 0.1% something bad would happen to Ilya? or: shane hollander has a bad ocd day. luckily, he has people to help him through it

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  5. It had been two days since Shane had surprised Ilya, and they’d had so much sex that Shane genuinely wasn’t sure if he would be able to make it to practice that morning. His lower back ached, his legs ached, but it was honestly a pleasant ache. It was a constant reminder every time Shane moved that he was married to the love of his life and that even after all these years sex was mindblowing and insane regardless of how often they had it. But it was the first time he would be seeing the team since that night at the club, and he could feel the shit he was going to get. or: a short little follow up oneshot of the cens teasing ilya and shane in the locker room a few days after The Lingerie Incident

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  6. Ilya’s jaw was hanging open as he stared at Shane, vaguely processing the whoops, catcalls, and cheers surrounding him at what Shane was wearing. His eyes roamed up and down Shane’s body, greedily drinking in every detail of what his husband was wearing. Him and Rose had just gotten to the club, but Ilya might have to turn his husband around and leave with him immediately. Because wow…wow. or shane decides to get an outfit with rose and wear it to the club. ilya goes insane or or shane hollanders waist appreciation fic

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    AO3:
    #76010161
  7. “Ilya! And Svetlana! Hi!” Shane exclaimed cheerily, looking at Ilya’s face with an open expression of adoration. Oh. Oh. Shane was most certainly drunk. Ilya was going to have his hands full. or: shane hollander clingy drunk agenda, ft ilya rozanov experiencing cuteness aggression

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  8. This felt bad. He hadn’t really been tracking as much, hell, just last night him and Ilya had gotten takeout from a fried chicken place nearby. Swallowing, his hands started to tremble. He could nearly taste the butter, the bread crumb coating the chicken, the oil it was fried in. And once he started thinking about it, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. How many calories had that been? A lot, right? Especially since it was restaurant made, he had no idea how much of each ingredient they had used. Bile rose up in his throat. Shutting his eyes, he deeply inhaled, then exhaled. This was fine. He could fix this. or: i project onto shane hollander because he is just like me fr fr

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