#hockeymade

[redstrng]

@hockeymade from lestat

there's a moment where i think i can match his steps so he doesn't see me coming. he falls very far out of my realm of possible victims. high profile. beloved ( and maybe loathed ). and yet i see something in his thoughts which brings my steps to follow his. i want to see what he will do. how long it will take him to discover me. so silent i will be -- a perfect silent killer unsure what the level of prey i am hunting will be.

[popularmxnster]

@hockeymade said: 「 📱」 — ❝ send something , I want to see you ❞

Text: No please?

Text: You're lucky Im a slut so I'll do it anyways

Text:

Text: You miss me yet?

[iinmortales]

@hockeymade continued from x

' did i? i don't really remember. ' which was only half a tease. he still didn't remember the actual hit, had no memory of marly slamming him into the boards. ' ilya, i'm ok. yes, the headache might be because of the concussion, but i'm better. its just a headache. '

[caphollander]

@hockeymade continued from X

What an asshole. It was the day before their game, but Boston flew into Montreal that afternoon, and Shane was well aware of that. Not that he'd made plans with the cocky, Russian asshole who was texting him. He was at the gym, practice had ended an hour ago, and Rozanov should be at the airport, or boarding a plane, by now.

[ Text ] -> Lily : Fuck you. [ Text ] -> Lily : More times than you can.

He's hit send before he's really considered it, because Shane is very aware that that's not true. Oh well. Fuck Ilya Rozanov for thinking he can sext him whenever he wants. He can, and Shane knows he'll answer, answer to any plans, fuck.

[ Text ] -> Lily : And who said we had plans later?

[iinmortales]

boston to montreal was a two hour flight, a near five hour drive. from ottawa to montreal, it had taken ilya two hours and twenty three minutes since 'lily' had texted 'jane' that he was on the way. and the game wasn't until tomorrow. so they'd gone to bed, and then the shower, and now the kitchen. ' hey, so, i told someone. rose. about us. ' there, he'd said it.

@hockeymade

[iinmortales]

@hockeymade continued from x

he has been suffering, and he has not told her why. it had been driving her crazy trying to figure out what it was. it couldn't be hockey. boston was as in love with him now as they had been when they had drafted him. ' of course it stays between us. everything stays between us. ' no matter what he told her she would support him. svetlana reached out, taking one of his hands in both of hers and squeezing. ' tell me what you need to say. '

[caphollander]

“You're a terrible patient and somehow I still want to be the one doing this.”

MEMES

Shane knows that, knows he is a terrible patient, which is why he has been grateful for the several years that Ilya has never been around him when he's been sick. During the season, he would play it off, push through, take medicine and make it work. If he got sick in the offseason, he would bury himself in bed until it wore off, sleep it off. Now? He's married, and it's the beginning of the off season, and he's exhausted, but there's more than that.

He's finding it hard to breathe, less an injury and just congestion, and burrowing under blankets is far more comfortable than Ilya's demands that he sits up, drinks water or soup, both of which are only making him nauseous. It's the flu, probably, but he's not going to the doctor, because that would involve leaving the comfort of their bed (that he has practically commandeered, in his sweat drenched state, wrapping all the blankets around himself and hiding beneath them), and he isn't willing to do that. "Shut up." Words murmured from beneath the bedding, because he doesn't want to admit that Ilya is truthful, but he's feverish, and tired, and he doesn't need caring for (he does, dehydrated and sick). "Just let me sleep. I'm not hungry." He's not, but he probably should be, if he wasn't fighting a fever.

[popularmxnster]

@hockeymade said: “You’re Mine”

Send “You’re Mine” for my muse’s reaction to yours being possessive of them.

Billy heard the two words and immediately smirked. He was used to being the possessive one so it made him feel good to turn the tables. Something that Ilya was good at making him do. " Don't worry, I'm all yours. No one else has even a shred of my attention. You know I don't like people. Just you." He assured him and ran a hand down his boyfriends chest. " I'm yours."