#icegods

[hollynder]

   . . .   starter call   ›   (accepting)   ›   @icegods

SHANE WAS FEELING . . . EVERYTHING. physically, mentally, emotionally. there were so many emotions swirling around all at one. he was sitting on the steps at his investment property, wearing his own hoodie but clinging to the one ilya was wearing when he showed up. he didn't even know how he ended up carrying the garment, but he knew he wasn't ready to let go. some people had emotional support pets or blankets. shane was starting to think that he might have an emotional support person, and the sweatshirt would at least smell like ilya. god, what was happening to him? this was ilya rozanov. captain of the boston team, and for all intents and purposes, the rival chosen for him by the hockey gods. they were supposed to hate each other. they weren't supposed to be hooking up after games. they weren't supposed to be anything anywhere off the ice. but here they were, in montreal, in the apartment that shane bought for the sole purpose of getting fucked by said rival. this was so fucked up.

and now ilya was calling for a ride. he was leaving and shane had the horrifying realization that he didn't want him to go. he wasn't expecting the kiss, and he couldn't stop smiling. ilya didn't know how much he needed that kiss. or maybe he did. maybe that was why he kissed him. maybe ilya rozanov was more in tune with shane hollander than he thought. that was treading dangerous territory. he almost didn't realize that ilya was taking his hoodie back. and why wouldn't he? it was his. and he was leaving. "can i keep it?" he blurted out before he even realized what he was saying. "the sweatshirt. your hoodie. can i keep it?" did he sound as pathetic as he felt? he tried to think of any rational reason for keeping it and came short so he lamely said, "it would look better on me anyway."

[hcneycakc-blog]

@icegods

after seeing cassandra, rio definitely needed a distraction. hell, he needed something to take his mind off a lot of things, but this was the most recent. vanya was the smartest option, the best option. a night with vanya? yeah, that would be a good distraction. their phone call was brief and to the point, rio could usually do a bit of fluffing before getting straight to the point, inviting the other to his home for the evening. but tonight? he needed him there ten minutes ago. by the time the knock at the door came, rio was antsy. he pulled the door open and fisted his hand in vanya’s shirt, pulling him forward to press a longing kiss to his mouth. “you took your fucking time.” it felt like it had been hours, but rio was tense and his mind was going a mile a minute. seeing vanya calmed him a little, though. he knew he stood with him, they had a good thing going. it was steady (ish) and rio could rely on him. “by the way, my neighbours complained after the other night. something about being woken up by banging at 3am. you know how hard it is to keep a straight face when they say that shit? i told her i was building some shelves and she believed me, so there’s that.” he laughed a little and rolled his shoulders back, kicking the door closed as he pulled vanya the rest of the way inside. he felt a little more at ease already, but he was still tense. his back muscles felt stiff and all he wanted was vanya’s hands on him, helping him relax. 

[sarpelui-saved]

❛    NO,  I’M  HERE  TO  SEE  JASON.    ❜    dull  eyes  stare  at  the  architecture  of  the  mansion  ,  and  she  waits  .  through  all  time  spent  together  she’d  never  stepped  foot  into  the  mansion  ,  and  there  was  a  damn  good  reason  why  .  stupid  ,  reckless  .  she’d  placed  herself  kindly  into  the  lion’s  den  all  thanks  to  some  half  assed  mid  drive  home  breakdown    over  the  course  of  the  past  several  hours  .  a  list  of  practiced  verses  to  spew  at  him  ,  questions  that  demanded  answers  but  the  moment  she  was  being  guided  to  what  she  assumed  was  his  office  everything  that  she’d  wanted  to  say  had  been  tossed  out  the  window  . somehow  ,  it  worsened  when  she  saw  him  ,  but  she  was  almost  too  numb  to  express  it  as  her  eyes  focused  on  the  soldier  lingering  in  the  doorway  she  simply  asked    ❛  can  we  have  a  moment  ,  a  private  conversation  ?      ❜  she  exudes  innocence  ,  after  all  -  she  is  hardly  any  threat  ,  she  is  exhausted  and  pale,  eyes  red  and  swollen  but  a  splash  of  cold  water  lessened  it  somehow  and  after  a  beat  ,  waiting  for  him  to  clear  the  room  until  finally  she  spoke,  approaching  with  a  folder  tucked  under  her  arm  ,  asking  the  one  thing  she’d  not  intended  to  question  at  all  ❛    are  you  doing  all  right  ?  i  assume  you  weren’t  there  ,  aren’t  hurt  ?  ❜ @icegods

[honevlove]

wed bed behead: jason, roman & leo *anon*

WED: jasonBED: romanBEHEAD: leo

WED: romanBED: jasonBEHEAD: leo  

WED: romanBED: leoBEHEAD: jason

WED: jasonBED: leoBEHEAD: roman  

[outlawhqs]

✦ it's ya boy ... skinny penis. ╱ jason & the pussycats will be here from now on !

follow ! & unfollow @angclicals !

[hollynder]

( fingers ) : for SENDER to lace their fingers with RECEIVER'S.

IT STARTED WITH THE LIGHTEST TOUCH. there were a lot of unnecessary touches— but actually, no, they were all so fucking necessary. every time shane looked ilya's way backstage, the russian was already looking at him. there were people all around, but shane could still feel him everywhere. it was damn near impossible to be sharing the same air and not do something about it. he wanted to kiss ilya. he wanted to push ilya up against the wall and—  okay, fine, whatever, he wanted ilya to push him up against the wall and kiss him stupid until he forgot his own name. he wanted to run his fingers through his favorite hair and—  nope, he needed to stop thinking about ilya rozanov. he needed to stop looking at ilya rozanov. but that was the thing about the sun, you couldn't look away from it even though you knew you should, even when you knew it would burn.

shoulders brushed in the hallway, and shane thought he must have imagined it when he felt fingers kissing his own right before they walked into the press conference. there was no imagining the hand on his shoulder when they first got behind the table, standing side by side during the introductions. and then they went to sit, and he felt that hand slide lower and lower and fuck—  yeah, he touched shane's ass. cocky russian motherfucker. then they were sat. and shane thought, that must be the end of the torture. and then he felt it, the finger grazing his thigh. he forgot how to breathe, didn't even blink. he just stared straight ahead at the wall behind all the sports journalists, not even bothering to shoot a glare ilya's way because rozanov would like that too much. but his own hand was on his thigh too, and he had never been more thankful for the cloth drapey thing they covered the tables with at these things, because before his brain could even process what was happening, ilya's fingers were laced through his. he was . . . holding his hand. ilya was holding shane's hand in a room full of people with notebooks and cameras, looking for the next big story. the press would have a field day with that one—  and still, shane couldn't let go. so he just squeezed ilya's hand in warning, begging him to stop and never let go all at the same time. because shane thought he might die if he did. and then shane tried to remember literally anything about hockey so that he could answer the question from the reporter in the back of the room.

[hcneycakc-blog]

@icegods

yet again, jason seemed to have found himself at christopher’s door. it seemed a little stupid, actually. given how much christopher hated the savages for murdering his father and how much jason hated the cobras for murdering his husband. sure, they each had their reasons for what they were doing now, together, but christopher still found that it felt to be the ultimate betrayal. a cobra fucking a savage? hardly unheard of. but the savages leader being hate fucked by a cobra arms dealer? christopher was pretty sure that was a new one. a newer, much lower level of self-hatred. and yet, when he wanted to rid himself of the stress of the day, he found himself at jason’s door. and vice versa. they were as bad as each other. christopher’s hands made their home at jason’s hips, nose bumping against his cheekbone as he pressed light kisses towards his mouth. they didn’t always start this sweet, but christopher didn’t always like to leave out the foreplay. and tonight, he wanted to take his time. he, after all, was not the one seeking out the other. he had spent the late afternoon in the volstead to drink away his troubles. “rough day?” the teasing was masked by a light layer of concern. they might hate one another but christopher wasn’t an animal. he considered people’s feelings. occasionally. he backed jason against the door, fingers working on pushing his shirt up his body, blunt nails dragging over smooth skin. “i’m the only one who can make it better, huh?”

[sarpelui-saved]

SHE’S  BENT  FORWARD  ,  HOVERING  OVER  A  SET  OF  BLUEPRINTS  with  one  manicured  nail  pointing  towards  what  she  believes  is  a  decent  enough  point  of  entry  .  ❛    listen  ,  leo  ,  i  know  you’re  well  aware  i  have  a  tight  little  ass  but  not  even  i  can  squeeze  through  that  ,  no  matter  how  much  you  plan  on  lubing  me  up  beforehand  .    ❜  she  leans  back  to  offer  a  curious  little  smirk  and  shrugs    ❛    we’re  going  to  have  to  figure  something  else  out  .    ❜   @icegods  ❤ ‘d  for leonardo.