Ofateaspoon



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    Rounding on five years deep into marriage and feeling very secure, Shane and Ilya are starting to master the art of pushing each other's buttons with full trust in their foundation underneath. When Ilya's jealousy mellows from something sharp and dangerous into something safe for play, it's not long before it becomes one of their favorite toys.

    A collection of vignettes about married Hollanov discovering they like the sex that follows when Shane flirts with men at bars and Ilya watches unseen.

    A plot bunny I created and then caught and am now delivering on request of the good people of tHReads who continually encourage me to be my most depraved self. This will likely wind up being effectively a short series of one-shots very loosely tied together, a bare bones fleshing out of the idea born in a mini-fic. I don't know for sure yet. But right now it's bringing me joy, so I'm releasing it chapter by chapter with no strings attached and sincere hope you enjoy the smutty pasta.

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    12 Jun 2026

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    After the tuna melt meltdown, Shane meets Rose Landry, has several deeply inconvenient revelations, and decides to do the only sensible thing: win Ilya back with sincerity, logistics, and a frankly alarming amount of emotional effort.

    Ilya, meanwhile, mistakes every tender gesture for the kind prelude to an inevitable goodbye.

    Or: Shane is living in a romcom. Ilya is living in a Russian tragedy.

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    5/5
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    07 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Ilya feels like a zombie; he’s an approximation of something living.

    He knows what this is, of course. He isn’t stupid. He was just a child when he watched the life bleed out of his mama, long before she stopped breathing. He watched her sweet smiles grow hollow, and her kind eyes fall blank. He felt her slipping through his fingertips like grains of sand in an hourglass; her time was up before Ilya had truly even realised that it was running out.

    When he looks in the mirror, he sees her staring back at him: blond hair, and blue eyes, and an emptiness that kills.

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    27 Feb 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “Ilya, you can’t…I mean, we’re…”

    “On a plane, yes,” his husband answered back in Russian, his voice dropping an octave as he spoke with aggravating dismissal, “I am not doing anything. Just resting my hand.”

    “You know what you’re doing,” Shane retorted, his pronunciation slipping with how quickly he spoke, “What is the matter with you?”

    It was the wrong move. Ilya's eyes lit up as they always did whenever Shane spoke to him in his native tongue.

    “Nothing is the matter if you don’t get hard.” The gruffness of Ilya’s voice sent a pang of arousal shooting through Shane’s body.

    “I won’t.” Shane responded in English, like that would somehow make it true.

    ---

    or: ilya challenges shane to the same conditions as he did at the cottage during the infamous hayden pike phone call...only 30,000 feet up in the sky

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    20 Feb 2026

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    “You didn’t like it the last time we tried it,” Shane said.

    Ilya gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Was years ago. Maybe it is an acquired taste, like licorice.”

    “You also don’t like licorice,” Shane pointed out.

    “Yes, but I keep trying it because Luca likes it so much.”

    “And then you make a face and tell him how awful it is.”

    “When have I ever told you your dick is awful?” Ilya said, looking mildly offended. “I am its number one fan.”

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    19 Feb 2026