what. color.

amanda, she/her, 30s, bi | my gifs (tagged *) | my fic (tagged *fic) | feedmyflame on ao3 | under 18 do not interact

[shanesmouth]

hi! i'm amanda (she/her), 30s, bi, mostly here to fuck around and perv out over the gay hockey show. this blog is for adults, please do not follow or interact if you're under 18

i like to make gifs and write things with my dick

ao3: feedmyflame

the reviews are in:

talk to me about intox, somno, orgasm control, tpe, cnc etc <3 ok i love you mwah

banners by leo <33

[peachyjude]

baby hollanov pressing their little kid foot against shane/ilya’s foot when they’re feeling nervous or needing some reassurance because that’s what they see dad and papa do 🥺

oh. My g od. oh my god i love your mind i love this

im obsessed with the idea that babyhollanov picks up on self soothing habits…. fiddling with their little necklace that great great grandma hollander gave them, pressing their forehead against their dad’s shoulder/neck when they feel overwhelmed and need a safe place… and of course, the feet pressing… yes… yes 🥹

send me babyhollanov hcs!!

[gloryhollanovjah]

literally every version of somno/somno-adjacent is soooo delicious to me. Ilya getting Shane off fully in his sleep, bringing him off with a steady firm grip and wiping him off afterward, Shane sighing, still asleep, and tucking himself in Ilya's chest. Shane whimpering and rutting against Ilya's thigh in his sleep until he comes, Ilya making soft encouraging sounds, just letting him take whatever he needs. Ilya waking up to his cock in Shane's mouth, Shane's head already bobbing in a steady rhythm. Both of them waking up hard and just immediately wordlessly moving into it, Ilya rocking up against Shane's ass and reaching around to grip Shane, slow and unhurried and warm.

[hutsonwoolyums]

We’re celebrating Suck Him off Sunday again!

At first, Ilya isn't sure why he’s awake.

His senses come back to him slowly. He hears the low hum of the brown noise machine Shane insisted they needed, that Ilya now cannot sleep without. The room is perfectly cool, and Ilya’s snuggled down beneath his favorite blanket. And best of all, Shane is tucked up close behind him, warm and heavy, one arm draped across Ilya's waist, soft breaths stirring the hair at the nape of Ilya's neck. Through half-lidded eyes, Ilya sees gray-blue light just beginning to filter through the curtains. The suitcases they abandoned earlier that night cast lumpy shadows on the floor. Early is all his brain supplies before he starts to drift off again.

But then he feels what woke him.

Behind him, Shane’s hips are twitching, and the hot, hard length of him is pressed against Ilya’s ass. Ilya’s not totally surprised. Their energy after a win often results in a fast, hard fuck. But tonight they’d been too tired from the roadie to do more than exchange a few soft kisses around their yawns before sleep claimed them both. Except now Ilya’s awake. And even though his limbs are heavy and his eyes are like sandpaper, he’s struck by the thought that Shane is here, right here, sleep-warm and restless and needing him.

Ilya still has days when he feels like pinching himself. He’s just had one of those days, actually, what with the win and the team celebration that followed, and Shane. Always, always Shane. First, a blur of speed on the ice, later a steady presence by his side. It’s more than Ilya ever dreamed he’d have. So why shouldn’t he let himself have it?

Ilya turns under Shane’s arm to face him. The light is too dim to see much, but Ilya has gazed at Shane’s freckles enough to map them even in total darkness. He runs his thumb over them now, the lightest touch, and follows his thumb with his mouth. His mind clears enough to register the soft whimpers escaping between Shane's parted lips. Ilya wonders what Shane is dreaming about to get him like this, so hard and needy even in his sleep.

Gently, Ilya slips a knee between Shane’s thighs, puts a firm hand on Shane’s lower back to guide his thrusts, kissing kissing kissing over his freckles as he moves Shane where he wants him. Maybe it’s the kisses, or the movement of his hips, but Shane wakes with a slurred, “Wassit?” as his eyes flutter open.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Ilya whispers between kisses. “It’s ok. I’ve got you.” Ilya reaches down to cup his hand around Shane’s straining cock. Shane’s mouth drops open, and his hips fuck down into the firm pressure of Ilya’s palm.

“Oh, oh, Ilya,” Shane groans, voice low and gravelly from sleep. 

Ilya wiggles his eyebrows and teases, “Hmmm, malysh, were you dreaming of this? Of me?” Ilya moves his hand away to press his own cock right up against Shane’s. 

Shane whines as he speeds up the thrust of his hips. He pulls Ilya in for a kiss, hungry and sloppy and perfect. 

Ilya could finish this here, just let Shane rut against him until he comes. He lets the thought drift away. Shane would hate the mess, and Ilya has a plan. So he takes control of the kiss, cradling Shane’s head and coaxing him onto his back. The movement rocks Ilya’s hips down against Shane’s, and he lets out a needy whimper.

“I know, I know, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you. Just relax, ok?” Ilya says, pressing a kiss to Shane’s heart before moving lower.

“Yeah,” Shane sighs, “ok, Ilya.” His eyes drift shut.  

In the pale gray light and the hush of the room, Ilya feels like he might be dreaming. All he knows is Shane: his smell, his heat, his taste. He breathes in deep as he noses over soft cotton, feeling Shane's cock twitch and jerk beneath him. He runs his tongue over the wet spot on the front of Shane’s boxers. Just a taste, but enough for a soft moan to slip from Ilya's throat. Shane often wants Ilya to rush this part, to skip right to the point when Ilya takes him deep in his throat. And when Shane is groaning and arching his hips up toward Ilya’s mouth and gasping out, “please, Ilya, need it, need you,” well, it’s not always easy to resist. But with Shane like this, all loose-limbed and hazy, Ilya lingers, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the covered length of Shane’s cock.

“Mmhm, s’good. Love you, baby,” Shane mumbles, carding clumsy fingers through Ilya’s hair. 

“Shane,” Ilya groans, the cotton barrier between them suddenly unbearable. He tugs Shane’s boxers down enough to get a palm full of Shane’s ass and a loose fist around his cock. Ilya’s lips chase his thumb again, this time brushing across where Shane is wet and leaking at the tip. Shane gasps and spreads his thighs in invitation, but Ilya keeps things simple, all gentle licks of his tongue and the easy press of his lips. Soon, it’s more than Shane can stand. His hand grabs Ilya’s in a hard squeeze, like words are beyond him. Still, Ilya knows what Shane needs, can almost hear Shane begging, more, more, Ilya, please.

Shane’s moaning with every breath when Ilya finally takes him fully into his mouth. Ilya works him over slowly with long, hard sucks that are loud in the stillness of the room. It lights Shane up, draws out tight ah, ah, ahs that nearly make Ilya lose his rhythm. But Shane's thighs are tense and trembling, and Ilya knows it won’t be long now.

The room is bright enough for Ilya to see Shane biting at his lower lip, his free hand clenched in the sheets, his eyes soft and wide and fixed on Ilya. Their eyes meet as Ilya swallows Shane down again, and Shane’s tossing his head and groaning out, “Ilya, oh fuck, thank you, thank you.” He sounds more awake than he has all night as he spills down Ilya’s throat.

Ilya keeps his mouth on Shane’s cock and shoves a hand into his own boxers, giving a few desperate tugs before he comes over his fist with a groan. Shane’s still catching his breath when Ilya brings his messy hand to Shane’s lips and whispers, “Time to clean up, malysh.” Shane’s mouth opens at once, dragging his tongue over Ilya’s fingers and palm.

“There you go." Ilya brushes his clean hand over Shane's cheek. “So good for me.”

Shane lets out a contented hum as his eyes flutter shut. "Love you, Ilya."

Later, they'll wake up again, tangled around each other in the brightness of the morning. Ilya will pull Shane closer, and Shane will smile and bury his face in Ilya’s chest. “So,” Ilya will say, pressing a kiss into his hair, “tell me about this dream of yours.”

[shanepervert]

it's like nobody wants to talk about shane on his back with his head hanging off the bed getting his throat fucked these days...

[shanesmouth]

reblogging again because of the breathplay of it all. like im thinking about shane wanting to be pushed beyond the limits of his own ability to control his body. starting off being perfectly obedient and taking it so well, but then ilya starts staying in his throat for longer periods at a time between letting him breathe. sliding in and eventually staying in and jerking himself off through shane's throat. animal panic eventually overriding shane's attempts to let ilya have whatever he wants and he starts trying to pull away, then tries to push ilya away, then just flails and thrashes but ilya's got him firmly and he can't escape

[shanepervert]

!! shane is used to being able to breathe at least a little through his nose except now ilya's balls are pressed right up against his nose and he's just staying there barely even thrusting and shane thinks at first that maybe ilya doesn't realize he can't get any air at all like this and he tries to make sound to alert him but that only makes ilya groan and grind his hips in harder. ilya doesn't even acknowledge it when shane starts writhing, just keeps slowly stroking himself through shane's throat, clearly in no rush to finish, and shane thinks oh god i'm gonna fucking pass out and immediately comes all over himself at the image of himself limp on ilya's cock

[shanepervert]

it's like nobody wants to talk about shane on his back with his head hanging off the bed getting his throat fucked these days...

[shanesmouth]

reblogging again because of the breathplay of it all. like im thinking about shane wanting to be pushed beyond the limits of his own ability to control his body. starting off being perfectly obedient and taking it so well, but then ilya starts staying in his throat for longer periods at a time between letting him breathe. sliding in and eventually staying in and jerking himself off through shane's throat. animal panic eventually overriding shane's attempts to let ilya have whatever he wants and he starts trying to pull away, then tries to push ilya away, then just flails and thrashes but ilya's got him firmly and he can't escape

[shanepervert]

it's like nobody wants to talk about shane on his back with his head hanging off the bed getting his throat fucked these days...

[huliajelena]

i don’t think i can keep pretending i don’t like you anymore

[shanesmouth]

i choose to interpret the shane of the day as a portent that someone burly will put me face down today. clock's ticking mutuals

[shanesmouth]

I said!!!! Clocks!!!!!!!! Ticking!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[frozenknight]

Some of you might think im just a sex obsessed freak. Well i am. Youre following a pervert. Have a nice day.

[pregnanthudsonwilliams]

and we're gonna see that huge man riding cock. bent over and fucked within an inch of his life. whimpering and whining on it, even. can you believe it. we have to live

[shanesmouth]

That's not Hudson in that pic

the pic from behind? or a different one? the one of his back is a still from the video this set is from im pretty sure

[shanesmouth]

his trade drag…

#histradedrag

(top left gif from hudsonswilliams to replace ai-edited screencap :/ )

[shanesmouth]

yes i can be furious and horny at the same time its called range baby and ive got it

[shanesmouth]

sometimes i get breathless with fury over what we could have without toxic individualism and the primacy of the nuclear family and bigotry and puritanism and fascism.

i could be a parent right now and joyfully raising a kid with a bunch of my favorite people and that kid would be fucking loved and i wouldn't be miserable parenting them. my arms ache from not having that kid in them yet but im so scared and sad thinking about getting pregnant now when that could be an exciting warm community-held anticipation instead.

maybe yesterday would have been a few degrees cooler and that woman wouldn't have gotten heat sickness and lost blood to her organs for a minute. or even if she did, maybe without bigoted medical abuse she'd be emotionally able to go see a doctor afterwards instead of me just driving her home and worrying about if shed be okay.

when i kissed my best friend at that campfire a million years ago maybe she wouldn't have felt the need to look around afterwards to see if anybody saw and could have just stayed with me in that moment.

i'll never fucking forget what my life could have looked like. what the world could look like now when i go outside. none of this was inevitable. i can't breathe with it.

[shanesmouth]

i choose to interpret the shane of the day as a portent that someone burly will put me face down today. clock's ticking mutuals

[fuckrozanov]

goodmorning this is your assigned shane of the day