Я тебя Люблю @heated-howlter - Tumblr Blog

ginger ale this, freckles that… you know what is actually the most blown out of proportion thing about shane and ilya? because of the „now the bed’s all dirty” line shane is often written as some squeamish and Cleanest™️ like he didn’t suck that dick straight from the airport.. that boy loves to lick a sweaty armpit AND ass to mouth and we need to acknowledge that more

assignedilyaoftheday

your assigned ilya of the day is ready to make you a tuna melt.. or even two!!

assignedilyaoftheday

your assigned ilya of the day needs a DRINK at the family function

assignedilyaoftheday

your assigned ilya of the day is having some thoughts in vegas. questionable ones, even.

ilyapasta

Once he accepts the reality of it Shane literally loves being in love— You can talk to me about anything. You can talk to me in Russian, I want to make you feel better. Come to my front door. Come to my cottage. Let me figure out a plan to keep you. We’ll figure something else out, okay?

ilyapasta

@cypresstrees yessss and if I might add, despite some fan theories about Shane’s mental state in TLG he’s actually canonically kind of on cloud nine. Because he loves being with Ilya. Loves their relationship, loves making him happy, and even loves that they’re keeping this giant secret from the world together. It’s not just a sex thing, I think Shane really likes like them against the world, alone as a pair. Even though this is an important friction point between them I think that we always attribute Shane not wanting to be out to his internalized homophobia and shame, but sometimes I wonder if it’s also just that the dynamic itself, this you and me against the world thing, doesn’t just push all of Shane’s buttons.

fineline-live

shane falling asleep while cockwarming mmmmm just a thought

Like they're both laying in bed and of course they're all snuggled up and maybe shane starts lazily playing with ilya’s waistband. Nothing crazy, just lightly dragging his fingers along the band, nails softly scratching enough for ilya's tummy to tense every time his nails pass over a particular spot. Shane starts to notice ilya's cock thickening up, maybe it begins to throb and bounce every time shane's nails press a little harder. Shane looks up at ilya without saying anything, ilya already staring back down at him with a soft smile. Shane smiles back, turning his attention back to ilya's cock and begins to shuffle his way down the length of ilya's body. He palms ilya for a while, pressing small kisses into ilya's exposed hip that his cheek rested against. Eventually he tugs ilya's boxers down, sitting up enough to drag them down his legs and toss them towards the hamper in the room. He grips ilya's cock softly, hot little breaths fan over it as he stares in awe for a minute. He's always so entranced by the shape and weight, how beautiful it looks and how well Ilya knows how to use it. Shane smiles and presses little kisses to the tip, kitten licking the slit and closing his eyes as he finally tastes him. He wraps his lips gently around the head, suckling little by little until he pops off and turns to glance back up at ilya. Ilya has one hand propped behind his head, the other hand resting on his stomach. "Can i just keep it in m'mouth?" shane asks quietly. Ilya runs a hand through his soft black strands and smiles "take what you need, malysh." And so shane lays his head back down onto ilya's hip, his mouth lazily wrapping back around the heavy weight. He sucks softly, his lips wrapped around his teeth as he keeps his head in one spot. His tongue drags on the underside, licking in slow strokes, the hand that once held ilya's cock now draped across his hips and tugging him into his body. "So good, sweetheart. You feel good, yeah?" And shane lets out a sweet small hum, nuzzling his face further into ilya's hip. He begins to suck on the tip, his eyes fluttering closed as he focused on how relaxed and sweet he felt. He suckled and held on to ilya's thighs, relishing in the act. Eventually ilya starts to notice small puffs of air evening out on his pubic bone, shane's grip on his hip beginning to release just the slightest bit. He notices the way shane's jaw starts to slack, his lips still suckling like there's a pacifier in his mouth lulling him to sleep along with the hand petting his hair. He realizes shane has fallen asleep cockwarming him. Ilya smiles and feels his cock twitch at the sight, trying his best to keep himself contained as to not awake his sleeping beauty.

firstprinced

shane being so earnest is basically a sledgehammer in a sense

argillaforma

hollanov at their kid’s autism assesment and the doctor says that autism can be genetic and asks if anyone in the family has autism and shane says no at the same time as ilya says yes

gayhockeyshow

shane accidentally gets a formal diagnosis at the same time as his child

-it’s shane’s idea to take their kid in for the assessment. Ilya ilya something is Wrong they’re so scared of sounds they keep pulling Anya’s hair they are crying a lot and walking like they don’t want to touch the ground

-ilya goes moy lyubov. Nothing is wrong. I Promise you this is something we (I) can handle. -no ilya no something is Wrong we need to Fix It. I’ve looked at the tapes (observed my child) and I’m noticing things Ilya we have to do something

-ilya: -_- okey.

hollanov-ann

😘

lavenderprose

Crucially #myshane plays to his twentieth season which is just long enough to have the experience of meeting Ottawa's new draft prospect, also named Shane, and to smile and jokingly say, "Hey nice name," and for the rookie to gulp and say, "Thank you sir I am named after you" and that makes Shane sit in his stall and stare at the floor between his skates for. Significantly too long to be healthy.

theweirdwideweb

marmelade-sky

so many fics out there where shane cheats on his mid boyfriend with Ilya... and I love them all BUT what about Ilya cheating on his boyfriend with Shane

marmelade-sky

ok i know you're all like wtf is she on about but hear me out

hollanov hooked up like in canon, but after "we didn't even kiss", shane panicked so hard he cut contact with Ilya. and Ilya tried to pursue him for YEARS, truly years, but Shane, somehow, completely cuts him off, panicking so hard that it overrides his deep-seated desire for russian dick. and eventually, Rose happens, and Ilya is like, wow. Maybe he is bisexual after all. Or maybe he's decided to put himself through conversion therapy. Ilya pretends he doesn't give a fuck.

(but it hurts, oh my god does it hurt to lose something ilya wanted this much.)

so Ilya does what he did before Shane Hollander: have fun, play hockey, hook up with hot people. He does date women, but nothing lasts: three months here, two months there, six months (woo, new record!) there. It's not that serious, and the girls enjoy being seen with him, getting spoiled with nhl money gifts and coming out of it with a heavy gain in instagram followers.

When they play each other, Hollander can't even look him in the eyes anymore (can still beat him, though).

Ilya plays for Boston long enough that he gains American citizenship, and once his dad dies, he well and truly stops being careful.

Scott Hunter kisses Kip Grady on the ice, and six months later, Ilya Rozanov is papped leaving a gay club with a hot guy holding his hand.

In true Ilya Rozanov fashion, he "is not a big deal"s his way through the press uproar, and ends up out as bisexual on the other end of it. The most-repeated joke is "rozanov has fucked so many women that he's running out and had to move on to men".

meanwhile, in Canada, Shane Hollander is seething with anger.

Rose broke up with him months ago (kindly, they're still friends), and unfortunately, Shane cannot lie to himself any longer about the fact that he's gay. And while he is having this whole identity crisis, fucking Russia's greatest love machine casually comes out of the closet, and doesn't even get that much backlash about it.

And while Shane is fluctuating between wanting to smash something and having an hourly panic attack, Ilya is out at the club, getting drunk and trying to find someone for the night because there's a hole deep in his chest that feels like an empty cavern growing larger by the day, and the only way he knows how to fill it is with sex.

And there's a guy who catches his eye. Ilya can immediately tell that he, too, is russian. He's hot, well-dressed, dark-haired with high cheekbones and an expression that makes Ilya want to chase him.

Ilya hits on him in russian, just to see if he's correct, and of course he is. The guy's name is Nikolai, and Ilya takes him home.

It's fun, finally speaking russian again while they fuck, so Ilya gets his number. They fuck again, four days later. After, because Ilya is not, contrary to popular belief, an asshole to his hook-ups, they lounge around in bed, smoking and talking. Nikolai is a model, trying to establish himself in the scene, trying to gain followers.

Half-joking, Ilya goes "You can post a photo with me."

Nikolai raises one perfect eyebrow at him. "No, that's for boyfriends, not hook-ups."

Ilya considers it; he's done this sort of thing with girls before; both of them knowing it's not going to last, both of them knowing they will both gain something from it, a few weeks of shared fun, a few weeks of regular sex and companionship, no hard feelings.

Ilya gives him a shrug. "We can do that, too. I need a date to an awards show in three weeks, anyway."

Shane sees the photo in the Metros group chat, the guys making fun of it. He takes one look at it: Rozanov, clearly in bed, hair rumpled, giving the camera an unimpressed stare. Next to him, one of the prettiest guys Shane has ever seen: short dark hair, cheekbones so high they look like they could cut glass, eyes more seductive than Shane could ever muster.

Shane locks his phone, and spends the rest of the night throwing up in his marble tiled bathroom.

marmelade-sky

the awards come around.

a day before, Ilya receives a text.

are you bringing your boyfriend?

It's from an unknown number.

who is this? Ilya texts back.

Shane Hollander.

Ilya almost drops his phone. Because what the actual fuck.

yes, he texts back, hands shaking. what does it matter to you

There's no reply.

"Are you okay?" Nikolai asks when Ilya enters the bedroom a minute later.

"Yes, fine," Ilya lies. "Will be better if you make me come."

"Then let me clear your head." Nikolai says, and then he sucks Ilya's dick, and it's flawless and perfect like it always is. Just the right amount of gagging.

Ilya still hasn't forgotten about it, after.

Meanwhile, Shane hasn't slept properly in two nights. And maybe it's the insomnia and sleep deprivation which made him text Rozanov. Or maybe it's the hard ball of anxiety and panic in his guts. Or maybe it's the green, ferocious little animal which has made a nest in his chest in the past few weeks; its name is jealousy. It scratches at the inside of Shane's ribcage everytime he sees a photo of Rozanov and his stupid, gorgeous boyfriend on social media.

He doesn't know why this is what's catching up to him.

Rozanov has always been famous for being a womanizer, for having a girl in every port. Multiple girls, even. Shane never cared, not even when there were rumors of actual relationships. (Well, maybe he did care a little bit. But never like this.)

During one of the many hours of sleeplessness, he thinks about it. It's the betrayal, he realizes. Shane knew from the moment he liked guys that he'd have to suffer through the repression, the hiding, the guilt, the shame. Knew he would never be able to have a relationship like his teammates, not as long as he was in hockey. And knowing Rozanov was, in a way, on the same page, had made him feel less alone. It was a shitty path, but at least, they'd be walking it together, hand in unlovable hand.

But now, Rozanov is out, and Shane is walking all alone. And for what? A random guy in a club? Some model who probably doesn't even know who Wayne Gretzky is?

It can't be that easy, because if it is, Shane has missed so much for nothing.

There's more, though.

Because in the past few years of his life, there hasn't been one single day when Shane hasn't thought of Ilya Rozanov fucking him. Not one.

And to know that this random model (who probably doesn't even know who Wayne Gretzki is) gets to have this every night makes Shane want to sink his teeth into something until he draws blood.

So he texts Rozanov. Because he has to know.

And re-reads the yes over and over again, until his eyes start swimming with tears.

marmelade-sky

good morning i am back with more

Ilya looks very good in his black suit, perfectly tailored to fit him. He bought Nikolai a matching gray one, and together, they're all sharp angles and unimpressed russian stares.

Nikolai is a pro at withstanding the onslaught of camera flashes, pretending like he doesn't actually care about being seen with one of hockey's most notorious players. Ilya keeps his hand on his waist, pulling him against his side.

Queer as in fuck you. Hunter can play house and be digestible to straight people if he wants.

Speaking of being digestible to straight people; Hollander arrives in a navy blue suit and with a smile on his face like there's a tiny gay frog living in his mouth.

Ilya forces himself to look as Hollander blinks into the cameras, awkward and sweet as ever.

Hollander turns, looks up, and catches Ilya's eyes. Ilya can see Hollander's expression wavering, can see his eyes go wide, only for a second.

Ilya tightens his grip on Nikolai's waist, and Nikolai, oblivious, leans into him.

are you bringing your boyfriend?

Why even ask? After almost ten fucking years, why even ask?!

"I need champagne," Nikolai says in Ilya's ear, leaning on his shoulder, speaking seductively next to his face, making it look sexier than it is. Someone else will be very happy to show him off once Ilya is done with him.

Ilya nods once. Before he leads him away towards the bar, he shoots Hollander another look, expecting careful blandness, or maybe a weak moment's sadness.

What he doesn't expect is a flash of seething anger, eyes narrowed, jaw locked, gaze fixed on Ilya's hand grabbing on to Nikolai's waist.

"Wait," Ilya says in Russian, "I want to talk to a friend first." He ignores Nikolai's indignant tsk.

Shane feels like he might have lost his mind during these sleepless nights.

The man next to Rozanov is just as gorgeous as he looked in all the pictures: tall, lean, handsome in an ethereal way. He's wearing diamond earrings which, Shane thinks bitterly, surely he did not pay for himself. When he leans in to speak into Rozanov's ear, it reveals a bruise in the back of his neck.

Shane hates him immediately. Hates him so much that the feeling of wanting to sink his teeth into something returns forcefully; sink them in so deep until something dies.

He is so overcome with jealousy that he notices it way too late, Rozanov coming towards him with his boy toy on his arm.

"Hollander."

It sends goosebumps down his neck, the hard R.

"Rozanov," Shane says.

"You look good," Rozanov has the audacity to say.

From the corner of his eyes, Shane can see the boyfriend's eyes dart back and forth between them. Then, he says something quick in Russian, and it makes Shane hate him even more, the fact that he shares a language with Rozanov.

Rozanov replies something quick in Russian, and the boyfriend sticks his hand out at Shane. "Hi, I'm Nikolai, nice to meet you."

Shane ignores him.

It's the rudest thing he's ever done in his entire life, and people have accused him of being rude before (even though he never meant to be). He means to be now.

After an awkward second, Nikolai pulls back his hand, his beautiful face going from pleasant to annoyed. Another quick sentence in Russian.

Rozanov, however, has the audacity to laugh, then shushes him. Shane is vibrating with tension.

They're surrounded by people, so he can't say what he wants to say. What he needs to say. Feels like his the words will spill out of him anyway if he opens his mouth now, so he keeps it shut.

"Well, Hollander," Rozanov gives him a little smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "Nice talking to you. Come on, Nicky, let's get you some champagne now."

And Shane just stands there, fists clenched by his side, as Rozanov walks away.

The boyfriend looks back at Shane over his shoulder, and there's an imperceptible little smile on his face.

Shane, famously bad at reading social cues, knows what this one means:

I won, bitch.

we'll see about that.