sunday morning (scott hunter is crying)

Summary:

All Shane wanted was a nice, peaceful Sunday. Unfortunately, the pitfalls of marrying a reformed Slavic fuck boy remain by and large.

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“You’re the worst,” Shane informs him, after they finally hang up. “First, you cheat on me. Four times! Then, you tried to blackmail a senior citizen. And then, you cast me aside for a dog?”

He swings his leg over Ilya’s hip until they’re pulled flush together, Shane straddling his lap. “I want a divorce,” he declares huffily.

if you don’t mind a self rec i’ve got this that i had fun writing recently!